i 

r 


» * 


4 




- j; i *» : *. r » 

^ * *'T »■•.}■■ , 

’* . -4 f. i- H\,* •■ 

V;'/- I 


^ . 


“ ■ • •* • J • \ I 

r-. V.- J 


■ , * 

» »< 

K *. • 

t 

» * 

i "t » 


* •■ 1 “.* i' • ' ♦ ‘ ~ V ^ ^ .1 ./'**' M * . , •♦ *, V i f *.* »■ -■ 5 *; /, n**? fc *J.^ * •* ,.f" !* ^ ‘ ■'* 

' •:■-'**. ■*'♦•, ;■ ■ " «»; ■ ; *■'■;■ 5 ^ :\'k' •■ ; ^5 ■■ '■ ** '4 »*-rv‘N‘ - -k y 


LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 


□ □□□TTtiTaHb 


‘ " ‘v V ? ^ . -‘4 * "V- it A ' ■* 

’'.*. V V. ^^v'v v, -V''. ;; *- ^•.- • 


i 


V 


1 


i 

t 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 


Shelf ^ 


UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 














1 »'<'. '♦»- iV^ ' 

« « 


V 




v<. 



^■. ^ ' ■• '■ . v^' ■ 

• »V '^. 1 * '»• r- '•) ^ ' ’ >• 'i '* ,'‘’'*w^t’ fcSvV ^ "J ' '• « 

••>.■' *’ »' I ',.;■* f ■ ■• ••■ v,' • ’ «7?, it "7J^'=W j '• 

' . ,; -■■ ■ ■ •: •■ • • 

• • > T. . ■ ;• *^2^M 


/! '•*’ 




{if', 


% . 
» i 


S^jfe-rVV. ■* 




-•* •• \ 

•4 • k 

• .i 


’ ^ 


P»: :■ ^ \ : -r; . ,y _ ;- , 

^ V..r- ■ V :" ■ . - W ' : -V JiH V 


* J A. 

A • 


•> 


ii 


^ . v^r--^ --.Kr.. , . 

•■ A-.Vr-' ■ >Jr 


* . *• ' • ■ 
•■' -/^'T • 

t. * A. k ' j 





'. < 


^•■' * • ' ■ "^ ■ ' • ■ - , V ■ ' '• i . ■'',!r '0--'J 

■" ■ • ■ ■ •• . • .<A ••• '' .’ ■'* ’ . 


• -4 





/ / 


* . .:, . 5 %' 

T' • 4 »- 




I '* V..-' V- 

/'i' 

I ■ .,P 3 : 

►C'j • ^ 

>'! .* 

JV • ’ “» • * ^ 1 * 


,*W. •• . -* 


. -.-J 
.r* , 

s * 


-ta - • * 


'■ f 




> - 

A/ i 

mW «2 ' 






"v 

J^v'' 
/ , 









, • •',! ■ I ■ •!!^r -* ,' 



0 » 


♦ » 



’». # V k. ./ 

i;^ Aife- 




»VJ ■• 'f ’•'• * ’* * 

/ •. v'^ ‘, • •^ ■ ■* 

f\ vS> ' 

..j\ , / ^ 




's- . •« 


*• ^ ^ .V, 

^ ■ .f ':*.> V': 'ij ».. '■■ 7 


vl 


* V 


*r 
> ^ 




SMI r 

&r • 


. 1 . 


I) 


■J 


• •’ 


V. ▼ ;. \ . , • Tf 

T ' A V*» ’ -■ •• 

■' K,' . '• •■' .•'•■•H 

ininp * *. ' i^Hi 

i:. -'in -7 


f.-. 




t ► ■ , 

r'K* ’ 


\ ' ■ ^ 


‘ % 

nai- 




^1* ' 

a/ ‘- O . 


X. 

•a'; 






< * \ 'j-'lj 

* * V . . ^ -J 


vA . 

I A*»*_ ■ 


J *. « 












s 

1 

i 


»' 

s. 

I 




/ 



' * 

r ' I 

«• 

I 

r 

"j* 




/ 




I 


« 






/ 



THE POPULAR SERIES 


Issued Sep" Monthly, 





Royal Outlaw 


By Sylvan us Cobb. Jr, 


Li-zc Or OF OOUAiSiC’ ‘“-K.OLLC-Y»F NORr AN? 

lOiviASCUS,” Cuk ConspOvALOL 
' T he Fortunes of ConradJ* ‘-^- hk 
R«>prer Couu'rFSsC’ vor,. ktc. 


Sfuif/i A . ; A 35 I 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

NEW YORK- 




THE 


NEW YORK LEDGER. 


The Illustrated National Family 
Journal of To-day. 


A Great Quantity and Variety of Reading. 

T he . enlarged size of the Ledger m its new form enables the 
publishers to give such an extensive variety of reading 
matter that every number contains something of interest to every 
member of the household. While the older members of the 
household are gathering information from the more weighty 
editorials on the current topics and international issues of the 
day, the younger members will find infinite delight and enter- 
tainment in the purity of the stories. The following is only a 
partial list of the 


Eminent and Popular Contributors: 


Amelia E. Barr, 
Margraret Deland, 


Dr. Felbc Oswald, 


George E. Parsons, 
James McCosh, 

Bev. Dr. H. M. Field, 


Frances Hodgson Burnett. 
Bobert Iiouis Stevenson, 


Anna Katharine Green, 


Haurioe Thompson, 


Marion Harland, 

Col. Thomas W. Knoic, 

“ Josiah Allen’s Wife,” 


Thomas Dunn English, 
Hoxu George Bancroft, 
Bev. John B. Paxton, 


William Henry Bishop, 


Helen Marshall Horth, 


Harold Frederic, 

The Marquise Lianza, 
James Bussell Lowell, 


Prof. Charles F. Holder, 
M. W. Hazeltine, 
James Parton, 


Bev. Dr. John Hall, 


Harriet Prescott Spofford, 


Oliver Dyer, 

. Lieut. Frederick Schwatka, 
Mary J Jafford, 


Dr. Julia Holmes Smith, 
Kate M. Clearv. 

Murat Halsteao, 


Gen. Jas. S. Brisbin, XJ. S. A. 


T he following table ot contents pves only a slight outline of 
the rich and varied contributions to the Ledger ixom the 
pens of the distinguished writers already enumerated and from 
hundreds of others. 


Fifty Dollars’ Worth of Matter for Two Dollars- 


Twenty Complefie Novels, 
Novels of Amerioan Life, 
Novels of Poreigna Travel, 
Novels of Southern Society, 
Novels of Adventure, 

Novels of Metropolitan Life, 
Emotional Bomances, 

200 Short Stories, 

800 Popular Sketches, 

2,000 Short Articles, 

Stories of Adventu^ 

Popular Information, 
Household Advice, 


Biogrraphical Sketches, 
Impressive Papers, 
Explorations, 
Humorous Anecdotes, 
Poems and Ballads, 
Scientihc Articles, 
Natural History, 

Home Culture, 

Health Sugrgrestlons, 
Principles of Etiquette, 
Scholastio Disquisitions, 
Articles of Travel, 
Historical Sketches, 


Miscellaneous Articles. 


T his is a variety from which all can make a pleasing selection 
every week ; and, furthermore, it is ample testimony to the 
great merit and value of the coming volume. 


Illustrated Souvenir Numbers. 


F rom week to week, the Ledger will be filled with the illus- 
trations of celebrated artists, and the extra Christmas and 
Easter numbers will be features of special artistic embellishment. 
The charming Whittier souvenir of last year will be succeeded in 
the Christmas number this year by a poem from James Russell 
Lowell, with full-page illustrations by De Meza. These souvenir 
numbers will be sent free to all subscribers. 


The LEDGER is Issued weekly, and the subscription 
price is only $2 a year. Send Money Order, Regis- 
tered Letter or Check, at our risk, to 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cpr. William and Spruce Streets, New York Cit^. 


THE IMPROVISATORE; 

OR, 

LIFE IN ITALY. 

TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH OF 

Hans Christian Andersen, 

By MARY HOWITT. 

ILLUSTRATED BY MABRY O. EDWARDS. 


12mo. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. Paper Cover, 60 Cents. 


This is an entrancing romance dealing with the classic scenes 
of Italy. To those who desire to behold with their own eyes 
those scenes, it will create a fresh spring of sentiment, and fill 
them with unspeakable longing. To those who have visited the 
fair and memory-haunted towers and towns of Florence, Rome 
and Naples, it will revive their enthusiasm and refresh their 
knowledge. Andersen published this novel immediately after 
his return from Italy, and it created an extraordinary effect. 
Those who had depreciated the author’s talent came forward 
voluntarily and offered him their homage. It is a work of such 
singular originality and beauty that no analysis or description 
could do it justice, and the universal admiration which it at once 
excited has caused it to be read and reread throughout the world. 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE ROYAL OUTLAW. 



THE ROYAL OUTLAW 


Jfooel. 



Sylvanus Cobb, Jr., 

Author of The Outcast of Milan f Rollo of Nor^nandyf 
The Scourge of Damascus f The Conspirator of 

Cordova f The Fortunes of Conrad f etc. 



NEW YORK : 

ROBERT BONNE R»S SONS, 

PUBLISHERS. 


% if y.%^ 

>1 > I , ^ > 


THE POPULAR SERIES : ISSUED SEMI-MONTHLY, SUBSCRIPTION PRICE, SIX DOLLARS PER APM<UM. NO. 13, 
AUGUST 7, 1891. ENTERED AT THE NEW YORK, N. Y., POST OFFICE AS SECOND CLASS MAIL MATTER. 




is. 

>• 





:> 










r 





V 






1 ^. 

t'.?U-. 



Copyright, 1868 and 1891, 

By BOBERT BONNER’S SONS. 


(All rights reserved.) 




i-' 

u-'/L- 

f.-- PRESS OP 

:Vi THE NEW YORK LEOQER, 

S \ . NEW YORK. 


■ vH-"l txil, 



THE ROYAL OUTLAW. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE STORY OF CADWALLADER. 



HE time of which we write was the 
commencement of the seventh cen- 
tury, while the seven Saxon king- 
doms, called the Heptarchy, were 
established in England. The history 
of that confused interval, as handed 
down by the ancient chroniclers, is 
more than half fabulous ; but never- 
theless there were many startling 
and interesting transactions which have 
come to us in the garb of truth, and the careful reader 
will find little difficulty in selecting those narratives 
which convey to the present generation a general 
understanding of the civil and military character and 
affairs of those old Saxon warriors. For in those times 


8 


The Royal Outlaw. 


there were fev7 able-bodied men who were not liable to 
be called to bear arms. Not only was there strife to 
determine who should be rulers of the different king- 
doms, but there was strife to determine who should bear 
the grander title of Britwalda, or Lord Paramount of 
the whole Island. During most of the time of the 
Heptarchy there was some one of the Saxon kings who 
was looked up to as a sort of dominator, or emperor, of 
England. He was king of his own domain, and over the 
other principalities he exercised the right of umpire and 
mediator. Sometimes one king wore the title, and 
sometimes another ; and there were times when the 
Britwalda’s crown gathered dust in the hands of the 
monks. 

Off the coast of Northumbria — that part now known 
as the North Riding of Yorkshire — was a group of small 
islands ; and I have no doubt that they are there now 
as they were then, though the stout handiwork of the 
rude artizans of that far-off time must long since have 
crumbled out of shape, if not entirely from human 
view. The chief island of the group was called An- 
wick, situated not more than three leagues from the 
main land, while to the eastward, looking out over a 
ragged mass of crag and breakers, the dwellers thereon 
gazed off upon the broad bosom of the North Sea. 

Anwick Isle was a full league in length by half a 
league in breadth, its length extending north and south. 
There were numerous rude huts in the narrow vales, 
and upon the protected portions of the shore, while near 
the centre of the island, upon a table of gray rock, arose 
the walls of a stout castle. The foundations of the 
structure had been laid by a piratical band of Northmen 
before the Roman invasion ; early in the fifth century 


The Story of Cadwallader. 


9 


some followers of Hengist took possession of the place, 
and made important additions to the castle ; and as 
they left it, it had remained imtil the present occupant 
came to finish it, which he had done in a fair and sub- 
stantial manner. As there could be no moat on the 
solid rock there was no place for a draw-bridge ; but 
the outer wall was high and thick, and the gate was pro- 
tected by an advanced barbican which was connected 
with the main castle by a covered way, so that, in case 
the defenders were driven from this advanced post by 
an enemy, they could retreat to the court, closing the 
way securely behind them. 

One bright, pleasant morning in September there 
were five persons in the main court of Anwick Castle. 
Near to the door of the keep stood three of them ; 
and as they chanced to be the three most important 
personages upon the island we will give them something 
more than passing introduction. 

The first was called Cadwalladej^, and he exercised 
authority as lord of the Isle. He was a tall, slim man, 
pale and wan ; and though he could not have seen more 
than fifty years of life, yet his hair was white, and a pre- 
mature old age had settled upon him. 

Next was Oswald, Cadwallader's lieutenant and 
bosom friend. He was of the same age of his master, 
but vastly different in appearance. Tall and stout, with 
limbs of fair proportions and massive mould ; the 
shoulders broad and symmetrically sloping ; the chest 
wide and deep, giving token of lungs healthy and 
strong ; while the movement of the body, as he walked 
to and fro, was marked by that ease and grace which 
characterizes the man self-confident and in possession 
of perfect health. His face was strikingly bold and 


lO 


The Royal Outlaw. 


handsome ; the features regular and strongly marked ; 
and the hair, only slightly touched with silver, grace- 
fully curled over his neck and shoulders, being worn 
much longer than was the fashion among the stern 
warriors of the time. There was a touch of ostentation 
in the man’s dress and manner ; but there was nothing of 
foppishness in it. It was a sort of glitter and dash which 
was as much a part of his inborn character as was the 
cool, calm courage that marked his course in mortal 
strife. 

A valuable man was Oswald upon Anwick Isle. Since 
the failing of his master’s health and strength he had 
borne upon his own shoulders the weight of command, 
and in every emergency he had shown himself equal to 
the task he had undertaken. The retainers of Anwick 
loved their lord, and bore him deepest sympathy — loved 
him because he was good and kind, and sympathized 
with him because of the misfortunes which had befallen 
him. But Oswald they regarded with awe and rever- 
ence. Bred to arms, and looking upon strife as one of 
the normal conditions of man, the stout men-at-arms 
saw in their lieutenant the very incarnation of the spirit 
of valor and noble daring. 

The third person in the group was Edwin, the son, 
and only child, of Cadwallader. He was one-and-twenty 
years of age, and, next to Oswald, he was accounted 
the best man in the castle. Since early childhood he 
had been Oswald’s pupil, and with a natural love for all 
manly sports and exercises, he had given himself up so 
entirely to his tutor that his progress had been such as 
to surprise all who had the privilege of witnessing his 
deeds of prowess. 

At the time when we introduce this group, Edwin had 


The Story of Cadwallader, 


1 1 


been displaying his skill in the use of the long-bow and 
the javelin, his father having come from his chamber 
for the purpose of witnessing the trial. 

In another part of the court sat old Penda, the porter 
of Anwick, and with him was a minstrel who had 
sought the hospitality of the castle. Penda was at least 
three-score, and had been with Cadwallader many 
years. In his younger days he had been a soldier of no 
mean renown ; but a severe wound received in battle 
had so disabled him that he was forced to put off his 
armor, and since that event he had made himself useful 
in the porter's lodge. 

Alas ! what a pity it is that one so brave and true as 
the lord of Anwick once was, should have failed so 
sadly," said the minstrel, as Cadwallader walked towards 
the gate of the keep, leaning heavily upon his staff. 

“Once was?" cried Penda, reproachfully. “Zounds, 
man ! my lord is as brave and true to-day as the best. 
His weakness is a misfortune from which he could not 
escape." 

“ I cry you mercy, good Penda, — indeed I do. I 
meant not to say that our lord’s bravery and truth had 
grown one whit less ; only his sad misfortune deprives 
his followers of the rich benefit thereof. In a measure 
those qualities are lost to the world." 

“ Not so. Sir Minstrel," persisted the porter, stoutly. 
“ The example of his prime is still at work leading his 
noble son to emulate a father’s brave and glorious 
deeds." 

“ I cry you mercy again, my good Penda. God knows 
I love your master ; for though I have only known him 
these very few days, yet he has contrived during the brief 
space to make me his debtor for a lifetime. But you 


12 


The Royal Outlaw. 


promised that you would tell me the story of his life. 
Is there anything which you ought not to tell ?” 

Nothing/’ replied Penda, solemnly. ‘‘ In all Cadwal- 
lader’s life there is not a single act that may not be 
told.” 

Then why not give me the story now ? I have heard 
much of the Outlaw of An wick, and long have I 'desired 
to know more of him. The desire was strong within me 
when I little thought I should ever enjoy the opportunity 
of its satisfaction.” 

“ If you will give me your attention, Sir Minstrel, I 
will tell you of my lord’s misfortunes.” 

The minstrel was all attention in a moment, and 
having collected his thoughts by a brief period of reflec- 
tion, the old porter told his story as follows : 

Magaff, the Wise and the Good, was king of North- 
umbria. In battle with the king of Mercia, he received 
a wound which proved fatal, though he won the victory 
and lived some weeks after the injury. When he knew 
that he must die, he called his councillors together to 
determine who should succeed him upon the throne. 
He had but one child, and that was his son Cadwal- 
lader, a bright and promising youth of fifteen. He 
had also a brother named Oswy, who was a stout soldier 
and a brave man. In battle, Oswy had proved himself 
one of the best of captains as well as a fearless and 
valiant warrior ; and in the hall of State he had dis- 
played much tact and genius in conducting the affairs of 
government. Those were troublous times, and Magaff’s 
officers desired that a man of experience should be 
called to rule over them. So Magaff put away his fond 
purpose of leaving the crown to his son, and called upon 
his brother Oswy to succeed him. 


The Story of Cadwallader. 


n 


At length, the king came so near to his death 
that he knew he had not many hours to live, and he 
called his brother to his bedwSide. 

“ ‘ Oswy,' he said, holding his brother by the hand 
as he spoke, ‘ I leave the State in your hands ; but my 
son is heir to the throne, and it is my desire that, when 
he shall have reached the age of five-and-twenty, you 
shall surrender the government to him. Will you do 
this T 

And Oswy promised that he would. He not only 
promised, but he swore by an oath ; and the good king 
died, firmly believing that at the appointed time his son, 
if he lived, would be king of Northumbria.'" 

“ Oswy made great show of mourning for his deceased 
brother, and for several years he was very kind to the 
youthful prince, his nephew. When Cadwallader had 
reached the age of one-and-twenty, the kings of East 
Anglia and Mercia made war against Northumbria, and 
for a time there was danger that Oswy would be over- 
come ; but he proved himself a better warrior than had 
been anticipated ; and, in the end, he drove the invaders 
from his kingdom. This war lasted nearly two years, 
and at its conclusion, when Oswy was once more firmly 
seated upon his throne. Prince Cadwallader was three- 
and-twenty ; and the people all knew that to him the 
king was mainly indebted for his victory. A braver 
man and a more valiant than the prince drew not a 
sword upon the battle-field. Wherever he led the way, 
the soldiers followed confidently and his charge was 
irresistible. 

“Then it was, when the people came to hail Cadwal- 
lader with loud acclaim, that Oswy began to grow cold 
towards him, and to regard him with undisguised dis-» 


The Royal Outlaw, 


14 


like ; and those who held positions nearest the throne 
shook their heads, and whispered that the uncle would 
not allow his royal nephew to wear the crown, if he 
could prevent it. A year of peace succeeded the war 
in which Mercia and East Anglia had been overcome ; 
and at the end of that time, Oswy gathered together a 
large army and marched into the latter province, which 
in time he so far overcame as to lay the king under a 
tribute. From East Anglia he marched into Essex, and 
thence into Wessex ; and in two years, he had made him- 
self master of more than half of England, In Sussex he 
stopped and demanded the Britwalda’s crown. If it 
were given to him, he would retire to Northumbria and 
make war upon his neighbors no more. Six kings met 
in council and agreed to recognize Oswy as Lord Para- 
mount of England ; and, clothed with this honorable 
distinction, he led his army home, and hung up his 
sword and spear. 

Cadwallader had now reached the age at which the 
crown had been promised him ; but when he mentioned 
the business to his uncle, he was only laughed at for 
his pains. 

“ ‘ How can I, who am Britwalda of all England, 
resign the crown of Northumbria to you?' cried Oswy. 
‘ But wait ' he added ; ‘ I have a son, and it would be 
natural that I should desire to see my son seated upon 
the throne, or at least to know that he would ascend 
thereto when I should have passed away. But I swear 
to you that it shall not be so if you bear true faith and 
allegiance to me. Help me to sustain myself upon the 
throne while I live, and I will place the sceptre in your 
hands before I die.* 

“ Had Oswy been only king of Northumbria, Cadwal- 


The Story of Cadwallader, 


15 


lader might have gained his crown ; but since he had 
become Britwalda it would be not only useless, but 
dangerous, to trouble him. The prince took counsel 
with his friends, and they advised him, every one, to 
accept the situation and make the best of it. 

With new power, Oswy had become ambitious ; and, 
ere long, it was evident that he did not mean to keep 
faith with his nephew. He had a son of his own to 
whom he meant that the sceptre should descend, and 
to that end he sought pretext for dishonoring the true 
heir ; and in order that his power should not grow less, 
he was careful to keep a firm hold upon the fealty of 
the other kings of the Heptarchy. I will not tell you 
all the things that Oswy did. Suffice it for me to say 
that, several times, he sought excuse for banishing the 
youthful prince from the realm, but without success. 
At length, when Cadwallader had reached the age of 
seven-and-twenty, the Danes descended upon the coast 
of Northumbria, and, for several months, Oswy .was 
forced to call upon his whole army to keep them at bay. 
Cadwallader was not offered a command, and he did not 
fight. The king purposely kept him from the field and 
then blamed him because he did not take up arms 
against the Dane. But the worst was to come. The 
excuse which Oswy had so long sought was soon to be 
thrown into his hands. 

Among the prisoners taken by the Northumbrian 
monarch was a Danish pirate chieftain named Wulfold, 
whose wife and daughter, being on board one of the 
ships, were allowed to bear him company. To Cadwal- 
lader was assigned the duty of looking to the safe-keep- 
ing of this important prisoner. The Dane was a true 
man, and when he had once pledged his honor that he 


i6 


The Royal Outlaw, 


v/ould not attempt to escape, the prince feared not to 
grant him every favor consistent with duty. Wulfold’s 
daughter was a girl of some twenty years, heart-free 
until now, and as beautiful as the ideal of the poet or the 
artist. The Northumbrian prince saw her, and loved 
her ; and the gentle Edilberga, who had never before 
beheld a man combining so many graces, returned his 
love with all the ardor of her impulsive nature. Cad- 
wallader asked the Danish chieftain for his daughter’s 
hand ; and a ready consent was given. Then the prince 
informed Oswy of what had transpired ; whereupon the 
monarch flew into a passion and forbade the marriage. 
But Cadwallader was not to be robbed of his love in 
this fashion. In spite of his uncle’s command, he called 
in a priest, and, in the presence of a few chosen friends, 
he and Edilberga were married. 

‘‘ And now it was that Oswy found pretext for ridding 
himself of the true heir to the throne. Calling together 
the chief men of the realm, he represented to them that 
Cadwallader had united himself with the house of one 
of Northumbria’s most deadly enemies, and that he was 
no more worthy to stand in the line of succession to the 
throne. There were men in the assembly who loved the 
prince, but they dared not speak in his favor, and the 
result was as the monarch desired. An edict of outlawry 
was issued against Cadwallader, and a decree of per- 
petual banishment passed. Oswy would have separated 
the newly-married pair, but it was suggested to him 
that if he allowed Edilberga to accompany her husband, 
he would be likely to have far less trouble. 

‘‘ ^ He loves the Danish lady so passionately,' said a 
courtier, ^ that he may be satisfied to remain with her in 
quiet and unambitious seclusion.’ 


The Story of Cadwallader. 




“ The king listened, and finally consented that the 
prince should be accompanied by his wife. This island 
of Anwick, belonging to Cadwallader by right of 
inheritance from his mother, was selected as the place 
of banishment, and for all the time to come — except the 
decree should be revoked — the royal outlaw was forbid- 
den to leave the island upon pain of death. Should he 
be found upon the main land of England, it should be 
lawful for any subject of Oswy to put him to death ; and 
should any one give him shelter upon the soil of Eng- 
land, the person, or persons, so offending, should like- 
wise forfeit life. 

“ But I must hurry on with my story, for I see that my 
lord is entering the keep, and he may send forme. Just 
mark that bent form, and that tottering step. Oh ! if 
you could have seen him when the boon of manly vigor 
was his ! It does not seem possible that such a man as 
was my lord a score of years ago, could have so failed 
and faded. But disease can make sad havoc with this 
mortal frame of ours, especially when the spirit, as well 
as the body, is crushed. 

The prince came hither, accompanied by his wife, 
and by a score of attendants who were allowed to serve 
him ; and for a year, and more, he was as happy as 
happy could be. A son was born to him, whom he 
called Edwin ; and while he was blessing God for this 
new source of joy, a dark cloud arose, and finally the 
crash of all his happiness came. In three short months 
after Edwin was born, the beautiful Edilberga died, and 
our lord was left to a sorrow that for a time threatened 
to take him from us. After his wife had been buried, 
Cadwallader shut himself up in his own apartments, and 
for three years he came not forth to the light of day. 


i8 


The Royal Outlaw. 


Sickness fell upon him, and since he cared not whether 
he lived or died, he would allow no physician to visit 
him. Of all his followers only Oswald was suffered to 
attend him ; and even now he seems to lean upon that 
man. But we are none of us jealous, for Oswald has 
been true and faithful, bearing with all his master's 
whims and foibles, and shutting himself out from the 
thousand-and-one comforts of the social life which the 
rest of us enjoy, for the purpose of being near his prince. 
Not many men would do as Oswald has done, but he 
has his reward. He loves his master, and he knows 
that but for him Cadwallader might have died long ago. 

“ Look ! See the two as they ascend the stairs. Mark 
the decrepit form of our prince, and then behold the 
stalwart frame and massive mould of the man upon 
whose arm he leans for support ! And see the gallant 
Edwin ! Ah, the son already makes good the failure of 
his father’s once valiant arm. He is a noble youth, and 
worthy to wear the crown to which he is rightful heir." 

The old porter ceased speaking, and in silence the two 
watched the outlaw as he ascended the steps of the keep 
by the side of his faithful companion. When they had 
disappeared, the minstrel turned to the porter and 
asked : 

Is Oswy still king in Northumbria 

“Yes," replied Penda. “While in the other States 
the kings have changed almost with the change of the 
seasons, Oswy has held his throne secure against every 
assault." 

“ And is he still Britwalda ?" 

“Yes. He has held that office much longer than it 
was ever held before by one man." 


What Came in the Storm, 


^9 


And does he still maintain the old enmity towards 
the exiled prince ?’' 

Penda shook his head with a sad and sorrowful 
expression. 

Worse than that, Sir Minstrel — far worse. Oswy is 
growing old — ^he is already three-score-and-ten — and 
the son whom he would have succeed him is not loved 
by the people. He not only hates our lord, but he fears 
him also — fears both him and his son. And when a bad 
man both fears and hates, there is cause for alarm, if 
the wretch have power to do his will.*’ 

You speak truly, good Penda.” 

The porter made no reply, but bowed his head as 
though his mind was busy with reflections to which he 
dared not give utterance. 




/ CHAPTER II. 

WHAT CAME IN THE STORM. 

On the morning following the giving of the old por- 
ter's narrative, the minstrel was early astir, and as he 
came out into the court he found Edwin already walk- 
ing there. 

A fair day to thee, my young master," cried the 
wayfarer, with a modest bow and a genial smile. You 
seek the early morning for fresh air and exercise." 

‘‘ I most generally keep pace with the sun," replied 
Edwin. The great luminary is given to regular habits, 
and he who follows it will never be a sluggard." 

Having thus spoken, the youth advanced to the slop- 
ing curtain and ascended the rampart, the minstrel 
following close behind him ; and as they stood there 
gazing off upon the sea, the latter said, in a free, blunt 
way : 

Good master, I am an impudent dog, and am prone 
to ask questions whenever I wish to know anything. 
Should I question you upon a matter which does not 
concern me, you must simply tell me so, and I will take 
no more offence at your rebuff than you take at my 
question." 

Edwin smiled at the man’s quaint honesty. 


TVkat Came in the Storm. 


21 


Fear not of offending me. My secrets are my own, 
and I can easily keep them. If yon have a question to 
ask, let me hear it.’’ 

“ I know,” proceeded the minstrel, without telling 
whence he gained the information, “ that your father is 
forbidden to leave this island, and I have wondered if 
the same ban is placed upon yourself — if you are shut 
up within the narrow confine of these shores.” 

It is even so. Sir Minstrel,” said Edwin, a deep 
shade of melancholy suddenly overspreading his hand- 
some face. “ The tyrant of Northumbria has come to 
fear me as much — aye, and even more than he does my 
father. My father is weak and failing, and can never hope 
to have health again. Were the throne open to him to- 
day, he would hardly be able to ascend it. Oswy knows 
this, and I think he has a mind to ease the rigor with 
which my father has been held ; and he would do it 
were it not that any such movement in my father’s 
favor would necessarily operate in mine. It is I whom 
the monarch now dreads. He knows that in the event 
of my father’s death I am the lawful heir to the throne. 
Yes, sir, — I am confined by royal edict within the limits 
of Anwick Isle.” 

I thank you, good master, for the manner in which 
you have answered me, and I beg to assure you that in 
my humble way I shall never fail to render you any 
assistance that may fall within my power.” 

Thus spoke the minstrel, and presently he added : 

“ I shall travel through Northumbria, and also 
through England ; and among the people I can sound 
praises of the Royal Outlaw of Anwick. The people 
have sympathies, and when they are aroused they will 


22 


The Royal Outlaw, 


have influence. You have been kind to me, and I shall 
not forget it.*' 

“You speak as though you were about to leave us, 
Sir Minstrel." 

“Yes, my master ; I shall seek the main land as soon 
as there is a boat at my service." 

Edwin cast a thoughtful gaze over the eastern horizon, 
and finally said : 

“ Not to-day, my friend. You have shelter here, and 
you had better keep it until a storm has come and 
gone." 

“ Think you it will storm to-day ?" 

“ Most assuredly will it. Do you not see that the sun 
is already entering a veil of cloud V 

The minstrel looked off over the sea, and saw that it 
was as Edwin had said. The sun, which had arisen so 
bright and clear, giving promise to the uninitiated of a 
pleasant day, was being lost to sight behind a bank of 
cloud that was settling down upon the horizon. 

“ No, no," pursued the youth. “ If you would save 
yourself a thorough drenching you will not leave 
Anwick to-day. The good butler will make you com- 
fortable ; and, moreover, my father might be pleased to 
hear more of your inspiring recitations." 

In half an hour from that time the bright sun was 
entirely obscured, and those who arose late had no idea 
that there had been a fair and inviting morning. 
Before noon rain began to fall, and as the sand-hom* 

* The Sand-horn in use among the early Saxons was formed 
by uniting two bullock’s horns together at the smaller ends, 
very much after the shape of the present hour-glass. The horn 
was scraped and polished until it became semi-transparent ; 
then the apertures at the connecting ends were regulated ; a 


IVkat Came in the Storm, 


23 


in the hall told the hour of twelve the storm fairly burst. 
The rain fell in torrents, and the wind increased in 
power and volume ; and more than once during the 
day did the minstrel bless his stars that he v/as not 
wandering in the forest upon the main land. As night 
approached, the wind increased in fury until it blew 
a perfect hurricane, and upon the more exposed 
parts of the shore the cottagers were forced to prop up 
their feeble walls against the power of the blast. 

‘‘ This will be a terrible night,'' said Cadwallader, draw- 
ing his mantle more closely around him, and moving 
nearer to the fire which a servant had just built upon 
the hearth. 

God grant that no ship gets driven upon our coast !" 
ejaculated Oswald. It would be a fearful situation." 

‘‘ Death to all on board," added Edwin, who had just 
come in. I have never known a more dreadful storm. 
The sea is lashed to fury, and the waves are driven 
high up towards our lower walls." 

Even as the youth spoke a man entered the apart- 
ment with the startling intelligence that a vessel was 
being driven towards the island. She had been seen 
just before the sun went down, and with the last gleam 
of departing day her torn and streaming sails were made 
out against the leaden, darkening sky. 

No, no," cried Edwin, as his father started to his 
feet. ‘‘ Do you remain where you are. You are not fit 

graduated scale for hours and half-hours was marked ; and 
when one of the horns had been filled with fine black sand, the 
union was made, and the time-keeper was complete, Some of 
these were made to run twelve hours ; but six hours was the 
usual limit. 


24 


The Royal Outlaw. 


to expose yourself to this storm. Let Oswald and 
myself fly to the rescue.’' 

Oswald himself did not stop to help restrain his master, 
but hurried at once to the court, where he found half a 
dozen of the serving men waiting for some one to come 
and lead them. The lieutenant’s first demand was to 
know if there was plenty of pitch- wood under cover for 
building two or three fires, and having been answered 
in the affirmative, he directed some of the men to pro- 
cure the wood and follow him. 

It happened very fortunately for those who had the 
building of the fires in charge, that as the gale had 
increased, the volume of rain had grown less, so that 
there was little difficulty in starting the flaming piles. 
Some brought arms full of the pitch-wood, while others 
bore torches of the same material, and ere long three 
large fires were burning upon as many elevated points 
close by the shore, and yet beyond the reach of the 
breaking waves. 

Far out over the storm-lashed sea gleamed the light 
of the blazing piles, and not a long time had elapsed 
before the ship was discovered. She was entirely at 
the mercy of the storm, her sails all blown to shreds, 
and her higher spars carried away. When first dis- 
covered she was near half a mile from the shore — now 
plainly in sight as she was borne aloft upon the crest of a 
mighty sea, and anon lost to view as she sank into the 
deep trough. Nearer and nearer she came, and while 
those appointed to the work piled fresh fuel upon the 
fires, the others of the islanders were gathered upon the 
shore watching the ill-fated bark. Oswald and Edwin 
stood side by side, upon a projecting crag, taking coun- 


What Came in the Storm. 


25 


sel together as to the means that should be adopted to 
save the lives of the inmates of the vessel. 

“ Look cried the youth, as the ship was borne aloft 
upon the top of a mighty sea and hurled nearer to the 
threatening rocks, ‘‘ there are men upon the deck ! Can 
you not see them T* 

Oswald saw them very plainly. And he saw another 
thing. He and Edwin both saw a female form clinging 
to the rail at the bow of the vessel. Down sank the 
doomed bark into the trough, and when she came up 
again the female was plainly seen, and by her side stood 
a man, with one arm clasped about her waist, holding 
on upon her with frantic energy, while with the free 
hand he made signals towards those who stood upon 
the shore. 

My soul T gasped Edwin, “ we must do something ! 
We cannot pull a boat out over the surf.” 

A boat could not live a moment,” said Oswald. 

‘‘ And yet we must do something,” repeated the youth. 
‘^See ! She is a young woman — a girl— and that man is 
her father.” 

As Edwin spoke, the fires were burning brightly, and 
the broad glare fell so strongly upon the ship that the 
faces of those who stood by her rail could be plainly 
seen. Oswald saw, as his companions had seen, that 
the female was young ; and he could furthermore see 
that her face was livid with terror. A moment more, 
and Edwin had determined what he would do. It was 
evident that the ship would be driven upon the rocks 
directly beneath a high cliff that towered above the sea 
to the left of where her watchers stood, and if her deck 
was to be reached it must be from that point. 

No, no !” cried Oswald, when the youth had told his 


26 


The Royal Outlaw, 


plan. “ You must not, indeed you must not. Only think 
of the more than mortal danger ! If you go there you 
go to your death 

I go to save life !” was the youth’s reply. “ Why 
are we here ? O, Oswald, detain me not. Give me your 
blessing, and let me go. See ! There is no time to lose. 
Do you attend to the ropes, and see that our brave men 
do their utmost to second my efforts, and we may save a 
few of the poor fellows ; and the maiden — O ! she must 
be saved !” 

Taking with him half a dozen men, bearing ropes of 
various sizes, Edwin made his way to the cliff, which 
point he reached just as the vessel struck the rocks. 
Oswald once more tried to dissuade him from his rash 
purpose, but at that moment a sharp, piercing cry 
sounded above the howl of the storm, and the daring 
youth would listen to no remonstrance. 

O, Oswald,” he cried, ‘‘you, who have sought to 
instill into my mind the principles of honor and 
braver}^, should be the last to seek to deter me from 
such a work.” 

The stout lieutenant caught his pupil by the hand, and 
while a mighty emotion shook his powerful frame, he 
said : 

“ Go on,- my brave boy ; but remember that your own 
life is worth something. In God’s name remember 
your poor father, and think what would be his suffer- 
ings should mortal ill befall you. Go, and may the 
blessed angels be with you to ^ard and protect.” 

The ship had struck upon a reef directly below the 
cliff, and it was evident that she must very soon go to 
pieces, as every sea, dashing in with mad fury, hurled 
her already shattered hull against the rock. Edwin’s 


What Came zji the Storm, 


27 


first care was to secure a coil of line, one end of which 
was secured to a stout rope that lay upon a broad rock 
on the shore, and having so arranged this that he could 
pay it out as he descended ; he carried a lesser rope, 
which had been brought for the purpose, to be made 
fast around his body, and by this he was to be lowered 
from the brow of the cliff to the vessel. Oswald himself 
took charge of paying out this latter rope, and having 
uttered one more fervent prayer for the safety of the 
precious life that was thus being risked in a noble 
cause, he helped Edwin over the projecting shelf, and 
then gradually let out the rope as the youth descended. 

The fires were being fed with fresh fuel, and by the 
light thus afforded, our hero had no difficulty in seeing 
the way below him ; but in prosecuting the descent 
there was difficulty enough. From crag to crag, from 
point to point ; sometimes working his way upon his 
hands and knees, and at others hanging at the mercy of 
those who held the rope above, he slowly descended the 
ragged face of the cliff, until within reach of the break- 
ing seas ; but even here he did not hesitate. He only 
waited until he could see his way, and then he toiled on. 
Finally, he caught a projecting spar of the vessel ; and 
having made himself sure that the support was secure, 
he grasped it ; and as soon as those above could be 
made to understand that he wanted more length of 
rope, he glided do wn to the deck. It was a confused 
scene which met his gaze as he looked around him, but 
he could not stop then to examine the condition of the 
crew. He felt that the vessel was fast going to pieces, 
and his first aim was to draw on board the life-rope from 
the shore. 


28 


The Royal Outlaw. 


‘‘Oh, kind sir, can you save my child?’' was the first 
cry that saluted his ears. 

The next : 

“ Not me without my father ! I care not to live if 
my father must perish !" 

He was a middle-aged, fair-haired man, with the sign 
of rank in his very bearing, troubled as he was ; and 
she, a beautiful maiden — not all the terror of that dread- 
ful occasion being sufficient to overcome the matchless 
loveliness of the sweet, prayerful face. 

Edwin spoke a few words of hope and cheer, and then 
called upon two of the crew of the vessel to help him 
pull the rope from the shore. The coil of line which he 
had taken with him, had been safely unwound as he had 
descended, so that he held this direct means of commun- 
ication with his friends ; and as he signaled to them 
that he was ready for the heavy rope, they began to 
pay it out. 

Of all the crew that had manned the vessel, only six 
remained ; but they were enough to help Edwin draw 
the life-rope on board, and secure it to the foremast. 
One end of this rope was fast to the rock on shore, and 
by means of a double purchase, which was readily found 
on board the ship, it was drawn taut enough to lift it 
clear of the surface of the sea ; though no human power 
could have lifted it above the reach of the waves. 

This work had not been done without much care and 
anxiety. All the time that the life-rope was being 
drawn over the furious sea, the vessel was surging and 
heaving, her spars toppling and falling, and her timbers 
creaking and groaning beneath the strain that was 
drawing them asunder. A single mistake, and all on 
board must have perished ; but Edwin was cool and 


What Came m the Storm, 


29 


collected, and though he fully realized the dreadful fate 
that must result from the breaking of the slender line 
by which the life-rope was being drawn on board, yet 
he gave no sign of uneasiness. There was one who 
watched him with an eagerness beyond the power of 
pen to tell. The gentle maiden fixed her bright eyes 
upon him, seeming to read in his face the story of her 
fate. lie had bade her be hopeful, and while there was 
hope in his own mind, she could rest upon his assurance. 
The youth knew that she was watching him — ^knew that 
she was seeking to know her destiny from the expres- 
sion that mantled his countenance, and he gave her no 
cause for alarm. The life-rope came safely on board, 
as we have seen, and when Edwin knew that the cable 
was secure in his grasp, he turned to the maiden and 
said : 

Courage, fair lady. Be firm now, and you are safe — 
both you and your father.*' 

She blessed him with a look that thrilled him to the 
soul, and without waiting to hear her speech, he attended 
to rigging the purchase for setting the cable taut. 
This done, the next thing was to rig a sling by which 
to ride from the ship to the shore. Oswald had been 
thoughtful enough to send an extra line with the life- 
rope, and when the sling had been prepared, this line 
was made fast to the shore side thereof, while to the 
side next the ship the line was secured by which the 
cable had been drawn on board. 

At this point three of the crew of the ship darted 
towards the sling, declaring that they would be the 
first to land. They felt the shattered timbers loosening 
beneath their feet, and they knew that ere long there 


30 


The Royal Outlaw. 


would be no deck between themselves and the awful 
grave of waters. 

“ How now, men ? Would ye fly from your posts, 
and leave this weak maiden here to perish T 

Our lives are as precious as her’s,'' was the dogged 
reply of one of the men, as the three pressed towards 
the sling. 

Back, I say !*' commanded the youth, placing him- 
self between them and the waiting sling. 

‘‘We will go first,” shouted the leader of the cravens ; 
and as he spoke he sought to push the youth aside. 

But they had planned without reckoning the cost. 
Without a word our hero caught the rascal by the 
shoulder, and hurled him upon the deck ; another he 
felled by a blow of his fist ; while the third he pushed 
back, sternly informing him that he would cast him 
overboard if he did not keep back. Then he hurried 
the maiden and her father into the sling, and having 
given them directions for holding themselves while 
making the perilous passage, he made a signal to those 
on shore to pull away. 

“ Hold fast, and fear not,” said Edwin, as the sling 
left the ship’s side. “ The seas will wash over you, and 
you must expect to be under waters more than once ; 
but the rope cannot break. Keep your hold, and pray 
to God.” 

Slowly and steadily the sling, with its load of human- 
ity, moved out over the mad sea, towards the shore, and 
so eagerly did our hero watch it, and so careful was he 
in paying out the line at his end — the line by which the 
sling was to be drawn back — that he took no notice of 
what was going on behind him. 



CHAPTER III. 

WASHED ASHORE. 

Edwin of Anwick was lost in a strange and all-absorb- 
ing reverie. Mechanically he payed out the line with 
which he was to draw back the sling, and while he did 
so he thought of the sweet face which had beamed so 
brightly and so gratefully upon him when he had 
announced to the maiden that she was saved. He for- 
got the storm ; he forgot the peril he had undergone ; 
he forgot the mortal peril that still surrounded him, and 
he forgot the presence of those disappointed men whom 
he had forced back from their attempt to get first to the 
shore — forgot everything save that beautiful face, and 
the wondrous emotions that had been stirred to life in a 
department of his soul where an emotion had never had 
life before. A mother's care he had never known ; a 
sister had never been his, and of all the female world 
the only representatives he had ever known had been 
the servants who had attended him in the castle, and 
the few peasants' wives and daughters who lived upon 
the island. He had been upon the main land of 
England, but as he trod the soil an outlaw, subject to 
death if he was known, he had sought to avoid society 
as much as possible. For the first time in his life a 




32 


The Royal OiUlaw. 


young and beautiful maiden had bestowed upon him a 
warm and generous look, and had spoken words of 
blessing into his ear. 

O, how eagerly he watched that frail support as his 
thoughts gradually wandered on to what might be the 
result of the meeting at the castle. If she should reach 
the shore in safety, and he should follow her, he should 
see her again. Would she smile upon him? Would 
she thank him for what he had done ? Would she be 
grateful, and allow him to approach her as a friend? 
But — she would at some time leave An wick — go away 
to her own home, and he would never see her more. 

A sharp pang thrilled his soul as this reflection passed 
in order through his thoughts, and he was allowing him- 
self to think how blessed it would be if the sweet 
presence could be his to cherish forever, when a quick 
cry behind him arrested his attention, and upon turning 
he had time to behold a mighty wave towering above 
him, catching and reflecting from its broken crest the 
beams of the beacon fires that still burned upon the 
shore — ^had time to behold this, and then he grasped the 
rail before him and bowed his head. There was a 
shock, a drenching flood, and when it had passed our 
hero stood up again. His first thought was of the sling 
and its precious load. He looked and saw it not. A 
thrill of agony pierced his heart, for he thought surely 
the mighty sea had borne the frail vehicle dov/n to 
destruction ; but presently he saw it again, the maiden 
and her father safe, and while he gazed, those w^ho stood 
upon the rock reached out and drew the drenched pas- 
sengers forth upon a firm and sure foundation of sup- 
port. He had murmured a prayer of praise and blessing, 
and was upon the point of calling upon his companions 


Washed Ashore. 


33 


to assist him in drawing back the sling, when he was 
thrown from his feet by the ship’s being lifted upon a 
sea and dashed against the rocks with more force than 
had before been experienced. The shock was followed 
by a crash and a quiver, and the youth knew that the 
shattered fabric was going to pieces. Down, down, sank 
the groaning, quaking mass ; above the roar of the 
tempest and the crash of rending timbers, sounded the 
terror shrieks of the devoted sailors who saw the dread 
enemy so near at hand. 

Courage ! courage !” shouted Edwin, starting back 
from the rail, and letting fall the line, which he knew 
full well could be of no more service. Where is there 
a sail ? If we must be consigned to the sea, let us 
find something that may bear us up, and at the same 
time break the force of the shock if we are dashed upon 
the rocks.” 

But he might as well have spoken to blocks of wood 
or to men bereft of every sense ; for those whom he 
addressed were so overcome by terror that they knew 
not what they did. Down upon their knees they sank, 
grasping the broken and falling rail, and in frenzied 
tones they called upon Thor and Woden for succor. 
One of the number, less weak than his companions, 
approached our hero and accused him of having con- 
signed them to the death that awaited them. 

But for you,” he said, holding on upon the mast, and 
bowing his head as the waves came surging over the 
quivering hull, I might have been safe on shore. 
When life and death are in even balance there is no such 
thing as charity. He is most fortunate who can save 
himself.” 

‘‘ I grant you that,” responded Edwin, readily, The 


34 


The Royal Outlaw, 


opportunity was offered you — you grasped at it — and lost 
it/* 

And lost it through your means/* growled the sea- 
man. 

Out upon you for a coward and a craven !** retorted 
the youth, taking a step towards the waist of the ship as 
he spoke, and holding on for the moment upon a stay. 
“Whence came the means by which life was to be 
saved ? I would not stop here to argue with you thus ; 
but if we are to die, I would not have you leave this 
world with a false impression of my motives in your 
mind ; for vrhat may come in the future no man can 
tell. We may meet again in that dim and distant world, 
and if we do, I would have you remember this : I risked 
my own life to bring on board this ship the means of 
saving that old man and his child, and I have succeeded. 
Had I allowed you to thwart me in my purpose, I should 
have been worse than a coward. But enough. Hark ! 
Hear those crashing timbers ! Save yourself if you can. 
Reach the shore with life in your body, and you shall 
there find every help that suffering man can need.** 
Edwin had spoken rapidly, with his eye, the while, 
upon a tattered fragment of sail that lay across some 
bound spars amidships, and as he concluded he hastened 
to the spot and secured it. The ship was broken com- 
pletely across from side to side, and the whole mass was 
sinking at the ends. The stump of the foremast, to 
which the shore-line had been fast, was gone, and the 
bows were under water. Another heaving sea came and 
swept the stem in towards the shore, and when our hero 
had calculated the point from which he had best take his 
departure, he looked for a plank, or some piece of spar, 
upon which he might sustain himself. He was thus 


Washed Ashore. 


35 


engaged when the beacon-fire nearest the wreck flamed 
up with unusual brilliancy, and by the increased light he 
saw a thick mattress which had been swept up from the 
cabin where the deck had been rent away. This he 
seized with thankful emotion, and hardly had he secured 
it, when, above the roar of the elements, sounded the 
crash of the divided hull. Down, down went the stern, 
and, as the incoming sea washed over it, Edwin let go his 
hold upon the shattered rail and leaped into the boiling, 
hissing surf. He had calculated as nearly as possible 
where were the openings between the rocks, and for a 
while he sought to guide himself on his way ; but in a 
very short time he found that this was but labor thrown 
away, so he grasped his mattress, trying to hold it so that 
it might receive the heaviest blows, and thus he allowed 
himself to be dashed on. There was a sound of a mighty 
roar ; he knew that he was being borne aloft into the 
glare of the beacon light, and then down into the dark 
pit of waters ; the sharp hissing of the mad surf grev/ 
dull and mournful ; the glare of the flames assumed a 
dismal hue ; and finally, with a sensation as of fainting 
from pain, his senses left him, and only an unconscious 
form was borne onward at the mercy of the storm. 

Ht Hi Ht Ht Hi Hi Hi 

Offa, Earl of Durham, one of the most powerful 
barons of Northumbria, and one of the most wealthy, 
owning nearly all the territory from the Tyne to the 
Tees and back into the country as far as the present 
shire of Durham extends, was the man who had been 
saved from the wreck. Oswald found in him a valued 
and trusty friend of other times, and their embrace was 


36 


The Royal Outlaw. 


warm and ardent ; but they had no time then for ques- 
tion or explanation. 

Come, come, Norna,’' plead the earl, grasping his 
daughter’s arm and seeking to lead her away towards 
the castle, one of the servants having been appointed to 
lead the way — come, my child, let us seek shelter from 
the pitiless vStorm.” 

No, no,” the maiden cried, putting away her father’s 
hand. I cannot go until I know the fate of our dear 
preserver. Oh, he must be saved ! Why could he not 
have come with us ? See how the waves dash over the 
devoted ship. The rope sinks into the water, and I fear 
that no more will come on shore by its means.” 

But, dear Norna, we cannot assist. You are cold 
and shivering, and you do but wrong yourself in thus 
exposing your life.” 

‘‘Oh, my father, talk not to me of exposing life. 
Think what Edwin did for us — they called his name 
Edwin, the name of my dead brother. Suppose your 
own Edwin were alive and on board that wreck, would 
you leave him ?” 

At this point Oswald, who had heard the maiden’s 
speech with a glow of thankfulness upon his face, inter- 
posed and added his influence to that of the earl. 

“Your father is right, dear lady. You can be of no 
assistance here, and may be even in the way ; for while 
one like you is exposed to such a storm, it is impossible 
that I should forget you ; and just now my whole atten- 
tion is demanded in our noble boy’s behalf. Go in, lady, 
— go with your father, and you shall know as soon as 
our gallant Edwin is safe.” 

“ But can he be saved ?” demanded Noma, eagerly. 
“ See how the ship sinks, sinks, sinks ! And oh, mercy. 


Washed Ashore. 


37 


he turns from the rope ! There is no more hope. If 
he is lost, then this poor life is made bitter forevermore. 
He might have come with us. There was room for 
three.” 

Surely, lady, you would not have had him to leave a 
duty so sadly undone,” said Oswald. “ God knows I 
would give my life, at this moment, for his ; but I would 
not have had him leave his post while there were lives 
to save.” 

By the bright light of the fires the movements of 
those on the deck of the wreck could be plainly seen ; 
and when Norna saw that the forward part of the ship 
had settled so that the foremast no longer upheld the 
life-rope, her heart grew sick within her, and she clung 
to her father for support ; and now he led her up from 
the sea- washed shore, and .she made no opposition. 

Arrived at the castle, Offa was presented to Cadwal- 
lader, who received him with a warm heart and open 
arms. 

This is indeed a pleasure,” cried the Outlaw, as he 
held the earl by the hand. ^‘What the tyrant king 
would deprive me of in the way of social blessing comes 
to me in the storm ; and since it was by no will of your 
own that you were brought to my abode, Oswy can find 
no fault. So let your visit be a long one, my lord, and 
I bid you feel that all beneath my roof is at your dis- 
posal. And our fair lady, Norna,” continued the aged 
prince, turning to the maiden and taking her hand. 
“ The light of such a presence is too rare to be hur- 
riedly borne away from my castle. Dear lady, let me 
beg of you that you will use your influence towards pro- 
longing your noble father's stay at Anwick.” 

‘‘ Little thought I, when I left London for the north,” 


The Royal Outlaw. 


8 


said Offa, that I should pay a visit to the royal outlaw 
of An wick Isle before I reached home. But, as you say, 
though it is against the edict of the king for any of his 
subjects to land upon your narrow domain, yet I am 
not responsible for the doings of the storm, and since I 
am here by force of circumstances over which I had no 
control, I shall at least be inclined to remain until I am 
better acquainted with my royal host.’' 

Ah, my lord,” interposed Cadwallader, with a smile 
in which there was much of sadness, ‘‘were Oswy to 
hear you call me by my royal title I fear you would taste 
his displeasure in a manner not at all agreeable. But,” 
he added, after a moment’s pause, and while a deep flush 
suffused his usually pale face, “ the title is mine, and 
God know’s I have a right to wear it. The sin of per- 
jury is upon my uncle’s soul, and every hour adds to 
the weight of the condemning crime that rests upon 
him. The throne of Northumbria is Cadwallader’s. 
He is king by right, and his son Edwin stands in the 
true line of succession.” 

“O!” cried Norna, with a kindling eye, “if I were 
a knight, and had soldiers at command, I would declare 
for Edwin of Anwick ! He is fit to be a king, and he 
could not fail of making a true and good ruler.” 

Cadwallader regarded the fair speaker with a grate- 
ful look ; and while a warm smile broke over his face, 
he said : 

“ Sweet lady, as God lives I believe you speak truly. 
Edwin is a noble youth, and in all the realm there is 
not one more fit to be king than is he.” Then turning 
to the earl he added : 

“ But you must know Oswald. He is my best friend, 
and has been to me as a good right hand. In my weak. 


Washed Ashore. 


39 


ness he has stood in the place of master at Anwick, and 
right nobly hath he acquitted himself. My lord, you 
must love that man for my sake.'’ 

With a zealous look the earl quickly responded : 

It needs not your fair words to lead me to love and 
honor Oswald. He helped to save myself and my child; 
and though we owe our lives more directly to your son, 
yet we owe to Oswald a debt of gratitude which only a 
lifetime of love and good-will can repay. And I have 
seen Oswald before. He has visited me at my castle in 
Durham.” 

“ Aye,” replied Cadwallader, mournfully ; “ he has 
enjoyed a privilege which has been denied to me. O ! 
it has been very hard — those long years upon this far- 
off bit of land ! Outlawed and exiled ! — a man without 
a country — a prince shorn of his rights ! But enough 
of this. You need refreshments and repose. You are 
at home, my lord, and if you can find as much pleasure 
in accepting our hospitality as we shall find in extend- 
ing it, you will be happy indeed.” 

While the earl and his daughter were being provided 
for at the castle, there was anxiety the most deep and 
painful upon the storm-beaten shore. Men were still 
employed in feeding the beacon fires, while up and 
down the beach, upon the sand, and over the rocks, 
wandered others bearing lighted torches in their hands. 
Ever and anon a drenching wave would extinguish the 
torch of some eager explorer, but from his nearest com- 
panion he would replenish the flame, and move on in 
the search. 

By and by Oswald heard a loud shout from two of the 
torch-bearers who had stopped in a nook between two 
huge rocks, and hastening to the spot he found them 


40 


The Royal Outlaw. 


just turning over upon its back a human form that had 
been washed on shore. It was one of the sailors of the 
ill-fated ship, and he was surely dead. A deep gash 
upon the brow, and another at the temple, both of them 
crashed through the skull, told that he had been hurled 
headforemost upon the rocks. The body was borne up 
to the higher land, and placed near one of the fires, and 
then the search was renewed. 

O, my poor boy !’* groaned Oswald, as, with clasped 
hands, he wandered to and fro in search of the loved 
one. “ Who loved you as I have loved you ? Who has 
lived in the light and warmth of your smile as I have 
lived ? Edwin ! Edwin ! O live — ^live for your Oswald ! 
The lord of Anwick cannot mourn as I shall mourn, and 
no heart will bleed as will this. O, my heart will break 
if mortal danger comes to thee ! — Ha !” 

Another loud, significant shout came up from a knot 
of torch-bearers, and Oswald hastened to the spot where 
they stood, and looked upon the object about which they 
had gathered. 

He saw a still, stark form, its massive bosom as quiet 
as though never a throb had moved within it ; its right 
hand caught amid the tangled web of a torn and tat- 
tered mattress, and from beneath the dark, dank hair 
that lay plastered flat down upon the marble brow, 
issued a tiny stream of awful crimson hue. 

The stout lieutenant saw, and then, with a hoarse, 
hushed cry of anguish, he sank down, murmuring the 
name of his beloved pupil. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE NEXT DAY, 

How he loves the boy r 

So spoke an old servitor who saw the lieutenant bend 
over the lifeless form of the youthful prince. And 
Oswald, hearing the speech, started to his feet. 

‘^Aye,’' he cried, wringing his hands in agony, 
love him as never man loved a lad before. Were he of 
my own flesh and blood I could not love him more. 
During all the years of his life he has been mine to care 
for and to guide — mine to lead up into the way of man- 
hood and usefulness — ^mine to honor, love, and esteem 
— mine to worship for the God-given goodness that filled 
his soul. And during those years he has loved me with 
a love that knew no shadow of turning ; he has looked 
up to me for counsel and support ; and always has his 
face borne a smile of gratitude for his faithful Oswald. 
Oh, he cannot be dead ! Go you on, that bear the 
torches, and lead the way, and I will carry him to the 
castle — No, no ; I will bear the burden alone.** 

He had gathered the loved form in his arms and was 
ready to set forth when he remembered that there were 
others from the wreck not yet found ; and he bade most 
of the men to remain and continue the search. Only 


42 


The Royal Outlaw. 


two torches did he take ; and with these borne in 
advance, he followed with the body of his pupil, bearing 
it as lightly as though it had been an infant. At the 
castle he sought the prince’s own chamber ; and having 
laid the form gently upon the bed, he applied such 
restoratives as he could command. 

Thank God !” burst from the strong man’s lips as, 
at the end of half an hour, the prince sat up and gazed 
around. 

“ Where am I ?” 

‘‘ Here, dear Edwin. It is your Oswald who speaks. 
Do you know me ?” 

The youth looked up into his tutor’s face and then, 
reaching forth his hand until he found it grasped by his 
friend, he leaned forward and rested his head upon that 
faithful bosom. 

Safe ! safe !” murmured the lieutenant, as he 
strained the loved one within his strong embrace. Oh, 
my boy, you will live to bless us yet.” 

I think I am not badly hurt,” said the youth, sitting 
upright and looking into his tutor’s face again. “ My 
head aches as though I had received a blow thereon, 
and my limbs are sore ; but I am sure there is no mortal 
harm. But, Oswald, how is it with the maiden I saved ? 
Is she alive ?” 

Yes, Edwin. She is in the castle and has inquired 
for you many times. She refused, at first, to leave the 
beach until she knew your fate ; but I persuaded her 
otherwise. I have sent word to her that you are alive 
and beyond all show of present danger.” 

Have you learned who she is ?” 

Yes. She is the daughter and only living child of 
Off a, Earl of Durham.” 


The Next Day, 


43 


She bears me gratitude, then T' 

Aye, m)" boy, that she does. She regards you as 
the saviour of her life, and I know that her heart is 
touched with gratitude pure and deep.'' 

At this point Cadwallader entered the apartment, 
and bent upon his knees at the bedside. They had not 
let him know of his boy until it was known that he was 
alive and out of immediate danger ; but now the old 
man came to offer up his thanks for the safety of his 
child ; and those who stood around marked how the sire 
was failing. The storm, with its startling incidents, 
had so moved him that his system felt the shock, and 
his limbs trembled perceptibly as he arose to his feet 
and took a seat by the side of the couch. He was more 
pale than usual, and his thin hands moved uncertainly 
as he arranged his disordered mantle. 

But Cadwallader was not the only weak one. Edwin 
complained of feeling faint and dizzy, and Oswald saw 
that he needed quiet rest ; so he sent all away save the 
anxious sire, and having prepared an invigorating 
draught and caused the youth to drink it, he laid the 
aching head back upon the pillow and smoothed away 
the hair from his bruised brow. 

I will watch here a while," said Cadwallader. It 
is my duty so to do." 

“And it is my duty to go down upon the shore and 
see if any of those ill-fated seamen have been saved," 
returned the lieutenant, as he moved back from the bed. 
“ Our boy will sleep, and I think he will awake refreshed. 
Oh, he is a noble lad, my lord. Could you have seen 
him upon the coast ; could you have seen him as he 
made his perilous way to that wreck ; and could you 
have beheld him after he had gained the rending deck 


44 


The Royal Outlaw, 


and seen him, amid the dire notes of mortal danger on 
every hand, working for the good of his fellows as coolly 
as though he had been in his own chamber — could you 
have seen all this, you would have been more proud 
than ever to bear the relation of father to such as he. 
As God is just and right is done, the noble lad shall yet 
bless the land of his birth.*' 

Cadwallader shook his head and sighed. 

“ Alas, after all these years of heart-burning exile, I 
look not for justice on earth," he said. You only pro- 
long my misery, good Oswald. There is no hope of 
right while Oswy is king ; and when he is gone, his son 
will mount the throne after him." 

Be not sure of that, my lord. Sigbert is not a prince 
that can be loved. The people dread his evil ways even 
now. But this will not answer. I must look to the 
shore. If Edwin awakes before I return and should 
call for drink, give him a draught from this cup." 

Thus speaking, Oswald bent over the bed, and hav- 
ing taken one more look at the sleeping prince, he left 
the apartment. 

“ Poor, dear man !" murmured Cadwallader, when his 
lieutenant had departed, how hopeful he is. And yet 
he is hoping against a fate as fixed and dire as is the 
fiat of the great Creator." 

In the court Oswald found his two torchmen, and tak- 
ing them for guides he hurried to the shore where he 
found that the servants had picked up three dead bodies, 
and had found one poor fellow who gave signs of life. 
A few of them were engaged in rubbing the sailor’s 
breast and limbs when he reached the spot, and a brief 
examination convinced him that the man might live. 
He waited until the patient had opened his eyes, and 


The Next Day. 


45 


then he caused him to be taken up and borne to the 
castle, where he could have better care than under the 
merciless pelting of the storm. 

After this Oswald searched up and down the shore for 
a full hour, and being assured that no man could be 
washed on shore alive after that, he called the servitors 
from the fires, and returned to the castle, where he 
found the poor fellow whom he had last sent up, in a 
fair way of recovery. 

On the following morning the sun arose bright and 
clear, and at an early hour, Oswald, with a number of 
the servants, visited the scene of the night’s disaster. 
The beach was strewn with fragments of the wreck, and 
with such portions of the ship’s cargo as would float, and 
two more dead bodies were found among the rocks. 
The ship had been manned by fifteen hands, and there 
had been five other passengers besides the earl and his 
daughter, so there had been a sad loss of life. Most of 
the crew had been swept overboard before the vessel 
had reached the reef of Anwick, she having struck upon 
a sunken rock ofE one of the smaller islands nearly half 
an hour before Edwin gained her deck. 

Sad though the calamity had been, and great the loss 
of life, yet there was cause for much thankfulness, and 
Edwin of Anwick felt that his efforts and his risk had 
been amply rewarded in the result. The most precious 
life of all had been saved ; for what can be more pre- 
cious in such an hour of dark and dread destruction than 
the blooming life of the true-hearted maiden just enter- 
ing the sphere of duty and usefulness ? At all events, 
the youthful hero himself, when he reflected upon the 
matter, had no hesitation in deciding that he had saved 
the chief -jewel of alT the freight of humanity. He 


46 


The Royal Oittlaw, 


would have saved all had he been able. Had the life- 
line held, and the deck remained as a foundation for his 
feet, he would have seen the last poor seaman off before 
he would have used the sling for himself ; but the 
result had been in the hands of a power mightier than 
his, and he could only rest in the assurance that he had 
done his best. 

As might have been expected, and as Oswald had 
foretold, when Edwin awoke in the morning he was 
weak and faint, and the blood that coursed through his 
veins was heated with fever. The bruise upon his head 
was but slight. His sickness was the result of such an 
ordeal as very few men could have survived, and the 
wonder was that his frame had not been entirely shat- 
tered and undone. 

As soon as Oswald came back from the beach, he 
sought the youth’s chamber, and there he remained 
until, towards noon, he found his patient able to sit up. 

It was quite late when Offa awoke, and when he 
sought to arise for the purpose of dressing, he found 
himself unequal to the task. The effort caused his head 
to grow dizzy, and a sick, faint feeling pervaded his 
whole system. Help was speedily summoned, and it 
was decided that the earl had a fever upon him which 
would keep him confined for several days, at least. 
The ordeal had been a severe one for him, and he had 
been most sorely tried ; but if he had a thought of 
regret on account of this sickness, his mind was directed 
to another channel when he remembered how much 
cause he had for gratitude. 

Norna came forth on that clear, bright morning 
without pain of any kind, save such pain of sorrow as 
she might feel for the poor unfortunates who had lost 


The Next Day, 


47 


their lives in the dreadful storm. She gave her first 
services to her father, and towards noon, meeting 
Oswald in the hall, she inquired after Edwin. The lieu- 
tenant informed her how the youth was situated, and 
she then desired to know if there would be any impro- 
priety in visiting him. 

Surely, lady, there can be no impropriety,” returned 
Oswald, gazing with admiration upon the face of match- 
less beauty that was upturned to his own. And Norna 
appeared to regard him with something more than 
respect. With true womanly instinct she admired that 
feature in man which bespoke strength and valor — that 
feature which indicates the strong arm to support and 
the stout will to shield and befriend the woman who 
reposes thereon. And surely there were few men in 
England who had reached the age of fifty, retaining the 
freshness and vigor that characterized the lieutenant of 
Anwick. 

Oswald saw that the girl regarded him with feelings 
of confidence and respect, and from that moment he 
loved her ; and from that moment, too, she had a valu- 
able friend in him. 

There can be no impropriety,” he repeated, after he 
had scanned her lovely face ; ‘‘ and I will see if Edwin 
is in a fit condition to receive you. He shall be his own 
judge of the propriety on his part.” 

‘‘ Perhaps,” faltered the maiden, detaining the 
lieutenant as he was about to turn away, “ Edwin will 
not care to see me. I would not be forward in this 
matter, if you think he would — ” 

Oswald smiled as Norna hesitated, and in a half -play- 
ful tone he said : 

Edwin of Anwick is human, my dear lady, and his 


48 


The Royal Outlaw. 


heart beats with the fire and fervor of generous, impul- 
sive youth. The last thing upon his thoughts ere he 
slept, and the first upon awaking, was of the lady he 
had saved. I think he would be sad indeed if he could 
not see you. But you shall know very soon.” 

The lieutenant went away, and in a very few minutes 
he returned with the intelligence that Edwin was 
anxious to see her. 

Norna of Durham entered the chamber with only the 
feeling of deepest gratitude swaying her emotions. On 
the previous night, though she had cast upon the youth 
a glance which had fired his soul, yet in her own mind 
there had only been such thankfulness and zeal of bene- 
diction as she might have experienced towards any one 
who had risked his own life to save hers. She 
approached the youth now filled to overflowing with 
that simple love which is born of friendship, and not 
until she had extended her hand, and had heard the 
tremulous notes of his tuneful voice, and had beheld the 
warm and liquid light of his beaming eye, did the calm 
confidence of simple friendship forsake her. 

She beheld a youth of one-and- twenty years ; tall and 
compact of frame ; symmetrical to a fault in every 
limb ; the broad shoulders and swelling bosom giving 
ample token of that physical strength which had enabled 
its possessor to succor her in the hour of need, and to 
put back the coarse, stout men, who would have saved 
themselves at the expense of herself and her father ; 
and when she gazed into his face, now lighted up by 
the holiest emotions that can stir the human soul, and 
marked its beauty of outline, and its wondrous wealth 
of goodness and truth manifesting itself in the soft 
lights and shadows that dwelt in the flushed cheeks and 


The Next Day. 


49 


the open brow, she felt that she was in the presence of 
a man whose like she had never before seen. 

Edwin of An wick was not so troubled. He had dis- 
covered the pervading loveliness of the maiden on the 
moment when he had first beheld her, and he had only 
now to find his highest expectations fully realized. 

But Norna was not bewildered. With an effort she 
overcame the first startling emotions that had resulted 
from the bursting upon her of this unexpected wealth of 
manly beauty, and when she had taken the seat which 
Oswald had set out for her she was calm and collected ; 
or, if there were sensations that broke the even tenor of 
perfect calmness, they were of that fervor and enthusi- 
asm of gratitude which might have been natural under 
the circumstances. Never in all his life had Edwin 
looked so handsome as he did now. The faintness that 
was upon him gave a delicate tint to his fine skin, flush- 
ing the full cheeks, and giving a varying warmth to the 
light of his large brown eyes ; while the music of his 
voice was softened and subdued until it had almost the 
melodious softness of the richest Pandean pipes. And 
then when Norna reflected that this man had really 
given his own life for hers — had given it, though fortune 
had yielded it back to him — she felt drawn towards him 
by a love and sympathy that called into being that one 
sentiment, or passion, of the soul which is the perfection 
of earthly affection. 

They talked of the storm, and of the ship, and of the 
coming on of night upon the dark sea ; and Norna 
told of the consternation of the seamen, when they 
found their ship unmanageable, and when they knew 
that they were being driven upon the rock -bound 
coast. And then she told of the loss of the captain, who 


50 


The Royal Outlaw. 


had been the first one swept overboard ; and of the 
loss of others ; then of the roar of the breakers ; and of 
the first shock of striking upon the rocks. Then she 
came to the seeing of the beacon-fires, and of men 
moving about upon the shore ; of the hopes and the 
fears, and of the fervent prayers ; and then, with bright 
tears coursing down her fair cheeks, and in tones grow- 
ing strong and confident as the first impulse of restraint 
had worn away, she told of the coming of the messen- 
ger of mercy to save herself and her father. They had 
watched him as he made his toilsome, dangerous way 
down over the ragged face of the cliff ; they had 
prayed for him as they saw the dangers to which he 
was exposed ; and when they beheld him stand upon 
their deck they felt that deliverance had come. There 
was sweet music in her voice, and when Edwin spoke 
he struck the same tuneful chord. 

The youth’s story was simple and modest, for he had 
mostly to tell of himself, and of his desire to save the 
suffering ones. 

“ I might not have risked so much,” he said, “ had I 
not seen a female form on the deck of the doomed 
ship. By the bright glare of the beacon-fires I could 
see that she was young, — a maiden in the morning of 
life,^ — and that her father held her to his bosom with 
agony of prayer and supplication. I counted my life 
as nothing then, only in so far as it might be made ser- 
viceable in saving that other life which was in the 
dread grasp of the demon of the storm. To see so fair 
a being perish before my eyes while I had a life to give, 
was more than I could do. I knew there was danger ; 
I knew there was mortal peril ; but, trusting in God, 
and in my own right arm, I made the venture. And 


The Next Day, 


51 


now have we not reason to bless God ? There have 
been many lost ; but not all. For those who have 
found a grave in the deep chambers of the sea we can 
offer up our prayers, trusting that the God who rules 
the storm will, in His own good way, care for the souls 
of those who are swept off from the stage of this earth- 
life by its fury ; and with the saved we can join in 
praise and thanksgiving, trusting that so dark an hour 
may never come again 

As Edwin ceased speaking, Norna wiped the tears 
from her cheeks, and in a few simple words expressed 
her sympathy with the sentiments he had offered. But 
she dared not attempt to speak her deeper feelings. 
Already were the fountains of her soul stirred to their 
uttermost depths, and she knew that she could not con- 
trol herself under a greater pressure of emotion. A 
little longer she remained, and then arose to take her 
leave ; but there was a promise given ere she went 
that she would visit the invalid again ; for Edwin knew 
full well that he should not be able to leave his cham- 
ber with safety for several days yet to come. 



CHAPTER V. 

A GUESS. 

It may have been under the genial influence of 
Norna’s presence, and it may have been only from the 
native vigor and recuperative energy of his system ; 
but, be that as it may, on the third day from the 
disaster of the wreck, Edwin was able to be out in the 
court, and on the occasion of his first venturing forth, 
Norna of Durham bore him company. She met him in 
the hall as he was passing out with Oswald, and as her 
steps were bent in the same direction the lieutenant left 
them to pursue their way together, while he went to 
attend upon his master, who had of late appeared to be 
failing, and who required more and more attention as 
his weakness of body increased. 

Edwin and Norna, conversing in that free and 
social manner which is the result of mutual confidence 
and esteem, walked out upon the broad rampart, and 
their first stopping-place was where they could gain a 
view of the scene of the wreck. The morning sun, well 
up in its daily course, had warmed the air to a soft and 
grateful temperature, and a gentle breeze, just suffi- 
cient to rustle the rich foliage, and to break the surface 


A Guess. 


53 


of the sea into a changeful mirror of flashing light and 
flitting shadow, gave the influence of new health and 
enjoyment to the convalescent. Where, when the two 
had first met, the demon of the storm had held its 
reign of terror, all was now peaceful and lovely, and to 
the maiden, wh'ose home was amid the woodland scenes 
of an inland abode, the view was enchanting and 
sublime. 

O,” she cried, as she gazed upon the broad panorama 
of the placid sea and variously broken coast, I think I 
could always be happy in such a home. I like the sea. 
I love to hear the tuneful murmur of its breaking 
waves ; and I love to gaze off upon its boundless 
expanse, and watch the grand swelling of its ever rest- 
less waters as they roll in towards the shore. And 
when I see where the sky comes down and rests upon 
its uttermost bound, I fancy I can see the gates that 
open to the world of spirits. Do you know, Edwin, that 
I have thought, as I have stood and viewed that far-off 
place where the heavens and the ocean meet, that if I 
could pass beyond the mystic line I might meet my 
mother, and my dear dead brother ! His name was 
Edwin, just as yours is ; and if he had lived he would 
have been as old as you are. He was a good brother, 
and I loved him dearly ; and I have thought how happy 
I should be if you could come and take my brother’s 
place. I should try to be a good sister to you.’’ 

She gazed up into her companion’s face as she spoke, 
and a shadow of disappointment dimmed the light of 
her eyes as she found him sober and thoughtful. He 
detected the emotion in a moment, and vainly tried to 
call up a smile. 

Dear lady,” he said, with a slight hesitation in his 


54 


The Royal Outlaw, 


manner, I pray you do not misunderstand me. Had 
God given to me a sister like yourself I should have 
devoted every energy of life to her joy and comfort. 
O, I should have loved her very, very dearly. But I 
have grown to manhood now, and I have never known 
a sister’s love, nor yet a mother’s ; for my mother died 
ere I had learned even to whisper her name.” There 
was a moment’s pause, and Norna, as though compre- 
hending the exact direction of her companion’s thoughts, 
bowed her head and trembled perceptibly. At length 
Edwin went on in a lower tone, and with a rich, 
tremulous cadence in his voice that thrilled his listener 
to the innermost depths of her soul : 

I have often thought of the love of a sister, and of 
the love of a mother ; and I have likened that love to the 
sentiment that pervades the souls of those who are happy 
in the world of spirits ; but as we grow older, and the 
cares of life absorb and obliterate the tastes and the 
impressions of childhood, there comes the instinct of a 
new and more startling love — a love more passionate and 
more selfish — a love which must be all in all our own, and 
which no other human being must share with us. It is 
not a sister’s love ; it gives not the recipient a sister’s 
place. But let it pass. You understand me, and bear 
me witness that I speak the truth.” 

Aye — she understood him very well, as her downcast 
look and warmly colored cheek plainly signified. And 
then she not only trembled beneath the weight of the 
new emotion, but her bosom swelled until her breathing 
was laborious. Edwin saw all this, and though there 
was to him a rich and ecstatic satisfaction in beholding 
her thus moved, he was led by a spirit of mercy and for- 
bearance to change the subject. 


A Guess. 


55 


And if he changed it now, would the opportunity ever 
come again of renewing it ? Could he ever again speak 
to the lovely being upon the one blissful theme that, for 
the three days last past, had engrossed his every waking 
thought, and given shape to all his dreams ? He could 
not tell ; but he was willing to trust it to the coming 
time, being fully resolved that he would never speak a 
word which could give the maiden pain if he had the 
sense to avoid it. 

Edwin smiled when next he looked into his compan- 
ion’s face, and the easy plane of mutual friendship was 
resumed. They moved on to a point whence they could 
obtain a fair view of the face of the rugged cliff down 
which our hero had made his way to reach the deck of 
the doomed ship, and he pointed out to the maiden 
where his tutor had stood, and explained to her how the 
rope had been held, and how he had been lowered 
down. 

“We will go out some time upon the cliff, and you 
shall look down from that elevated point into the sea 
beneath. There are many places upon our narrow 
inland that might have interest for you. And your 
father — would not he like to walk over the place ? I 
should enjoy it much to be his guide.” 

“ My father will hardly have time at present,” replied 
Norna. “ To-morrow, if the wind is favorable, and a 
vessel can be spared, he will leave you.” 

“ Leave us !” cried Edwin, speaking as though intel- 
ligence of some dire calamity had been given him. 

“ Yes ; he must return to London.” 

“ And do you go with him ?’* 

“ No ; he thinks I had best remain here until he 
returns.” 


56 


The Royal Outlaw. 


Edwin’s face grew bright, and his step was light and 
buoyant. A sudden chill had been removed by the com- 
ing of a great joy, and his eye beamed with unusual 
lustre. Norna was as watchful of his face as he had 
been of hers, and when she saw the marvelous change 
which her answer had produced, she was happy and con- 
tent. She knew that her companionship was agreeable 
to the handsome, warm-hearted prince, and she was 
willing to rest there until the future should open some 
new channel of hope. That the time to come might 
possibly dash to earth the cup already at her lips she 
did not consider. That would have been borrowing 
trouble, a thing which she had no mind to do. 

My father had been to London, and was on his way 
home, when we were overtaken by the storm,” explained 
Norna, when she had marked the change in Edwin’s 
look. He had important business with the King of 
Essex, and had spent nearly a month at that court. On 
board the ship he had papers of the utmost importance, 
and among them were copies of some of the original 
deeds by which our land is held ; and these papers must 
be duplicated. I do not understand the matter fully, 
but I know that the loss of miy father’s packet of big 
parchment rolls makes it necessary for him to return to 
Essex. He will go by water, and I think he will return 
by land, as he wishes to see the Britwalda at York on 
his way home.” 

The sun shone with new glory, and all nature wore 
new charms for Edwin after this. He assured himself 
that Norna would not go with her father, and with that 
assurance he was perfectly happy. Like as the child 
lays up blissful anticipations in expectation of coming 
pleasure, allowing all hope to be rose-tinged by the 


A Guess. 


57 


unborn event, so our hero, taking no thought save of 
the companionship thus promised, grew jubilant over 
the prospect. 

That afternoon Oswald went to the main land, and on 
the following morning a stout vessel lay in readiness off 
the coast to take Off a on board. Into Oswald's care the 
earl gave his daughter, and the lieutenant accepted 
the trust without hesitation. 

‘‘I need not tell you to be careful of her," said the 
parent, for you know how precious she is, and your 
own heart will be a sure guide. She will need no 
restraint save in the matter of exposure to the weather. 
She loves to wander about out of doors, and you will 
know when she had best be abroad, and when she had 
best remain under shelter of your roof. Speak to her 
kindly, and she will readily obey all reasonable sug- 
gestions." 

Oswald promised that he would do all that could be 
done ; and having told to his daughter the arrangement 
he had made, and cautioned her concerning her conduct, 
he kissed and blessed her, and then started for the 
vessel, the lieutenant bearing him company as far as the 
boat-landing, where a stout, safe skiff was in waiting to 
take him off. The two walked slowly down towards 
the water, conversing eagerly as they went, and upon 
the beach they stopped some minutes. The earl held 
Oswald's hand to the last, and the final speech seemed 
to be a promise of some sort, given with solemn 
emphasis. 

The lieutenant stood upon the shore and watched the 
boat till it had reached the vessel's side ; then he 
watched the vessel as her sails were given to the breeze 
— watched her as she stood away to the southward ; 


58 


The Royal Outlaw, 


watched until he felt his feet grew chill and damp, and 
upon looking down he found that the tide had risen 
about him. With a smile at his own inadvertence, he 
turned towards the castle, and when he reached it he 
sought the apartment of his master. 

The days passed on, and Cadwallader grew more 
weak, A messenger was dispatched to York for the 
best physician, and also a dispatch was sent to the king. 
Cadwallader was too feeble to wield a pen, and Oswald 
wrote for him. 

My Royal Kinsman,*' the missive commenced, “ I 
am so faint and sick that m_ fingers cannot guide a pen, 
and I write this by the hand of my trusty Oswald, whom 
you well know. Olfa, Earl of Durham, having been 
cast upon our coast by a furious storm, was forced to 
seek shelter beneath my roof, and before he left me he 
promised that he would see you if he could, and inter- 
cede in my behalf. But I may not live until he reaches 
you. Must I die an exile and an outlaw ? Can you not 
find it in your heart to issue an edict of pardon ere I 
pass from earth ? I shall not remain long in your way 
at best, and my last hour would be sweetened if I knew 
that this poor worn body should not fill an outlaw’s 
grave.’ 

That was the tenor of Cadwallader’s letter to his 
royal uncle ; and when it had been folded and sealed, 
the messenger was instructed to deliver it into the 
king’s own hand if possible, and also to be sure and send 
a physician. 

The distance to York was not more than fourteen 
leagues, so that the courier accomplished his mission in 


A Guess. 


59 


two dayvS. The physician returned with him, but no 
answer was brought from the king. 

I saw his majesty,'' reported the messenger, who 
ungraciously listened to what I had to say, and also 
received the letter. He did not read it in my presence, 
but he said that he would give it his early attention." 

The physician sat down by the sick man’s bedside, 
and the expression of his countenance, as he noted the 
pulses, and marked the failing light of the eye, told 
plainly what his speech might be. 

‘‘ My lord," he said, at the end of his examination, 

do you wish me to speak plainly and truthfully ?" 

Your question would seem to be speech enough," 
replied Cadwallader, not in the best of humors. I 
should not have sent for you had I desired to be 
deceived or flattered. You find my time on earth 
limited ?” 

“ Aye," answered the man of physic, ^‘limited and the 
bound set. If you have business to do, you had best do 
it speedily. I can give you medication that may bring 
slight relief from the suffering that oppresses you ; 
but it is beyond the power of human skill to lengthen 
out your days.” 

“ How long, think you, can I survive ?" asked 
Cadwallader, with a vacant look. 

“Not many days. Perhaps a week — but not more 
than that." 

The sick man heard, but did not manifest any emotion. 
It seemed a matter of entire indifference to him ; and 
since the physician could give him no aid, he cared not 
for his further counsel. But when he looked towards 
Oswald his eye brightened and the expression of his 
pale face changed. 


6o 


The Royal Outlaw. 


Good Oswald, it is as I feared. You will soon have 
this heavy care lifted from your hands ; and while you 
find relief from your long and toilsome watchings, I 
shall be at rest.” 

The lieutenant moved to the bedside, and took his 
master’s hand. 

“ Oh, my lord, words are powerless to convey the deep 
grief that moves my spirit in view of the loss that must 
be mine when you are gone. I should do injustice to 
myself did I declare that my watchings had not been 
toilsome ; but I can truthfully declare that some of the 
sweetest moments of my life have been spent in care of 
thee. The toil has been a pleasure and my vigils at 
your bedside have been made pleasant and happy by 
the gratitude which your uniform kindness and forbear- 
ance have commanded. But there may be yet a hope. 
Life is not yet gone ; and while the body is animated 
by the presence of the immortal spirit, who shall with 
certainty fix the bound of endurance T 

Tears coursed down the sick man’s cheeks, and, still 
holding his lieutenant’s hand, he responded in tones 
made strong by the swelling of his heart : 

Good Oswald, for all these long years that I have been 
weak and failing, God knows that you have been my 
best and truest friend. I would not put aside the sweet 
love of my son, but he has not been able to counsel and 
advise ; and, moreover, he has been shut up within the 
confines of this narrow isle with myself. But God will 
bless you ; your own pure conscience will bless you ; 
and in the after years, when you think of the poor, 
suffering outlaw, you will remember him with something 
of kindness and love in your soul.” 

“ With a love that can never, never grow weak,” cried 


A Guess. 


6i 


Oswald, sinking upon his knees and pressing the thin 
white hands to his lips. 

“ There is one heart that will ever hold fond memories 
of the royal exile,'' exclaimed Edwin, taking a place 
beside Oswald. “ Oh, my father, deem not that I have 
ever lacked in love or esteem ; but I have not known 
how I could help you. There has seemed to be no room 
for me by your side. Oswald has filled every office and 
performed every duty." 

Bless you, my son ! Bless you !" ejaculated Cadwal- 
lader, laying his hand upon the youth's head. “You 
have been a source of unspeakable joy to me, though I 
have not made great demonstration. I have loved you 
Edwin — I have loved you fondly and truly ; and the last 
prayer that ascends to heaven from my soul will be in 
your behalf." 

Edwin was deeply affected, and the more so because 
he had not, in the years that were gone, been the recip- 
ient of any fond demonstrations from his father. Ever 
since he could remember, his father had been ill in 
health, and inclined to be moody and taciturn. The 
great calamity of his outlawry seemed to weigh upon 
him, and he sought no relief in social life. Even the 
guidance and education of the young prince he had 
given up entirely to his lieutenant ; so, as he had grown 
towards manhood, the youth had naturally bestowed 
his chief affection upon the kind and generous tutor 
who had never failed to make any sacrifice that might 
be called for in the way of laboring for the good of his 
pupil. But now, when the dying man betrayed his 
long-hidden affection, Edwin gave his whole heart of 
love in response, and earnestly prayed for the richest 
blessing of heaven upon the sufferer. 

Through that night Oswald and Edwin took turns in 


62 


The Royal Outlaw, 


watching with the invalid, the physician having dealt 
out such medicines as might be administered with pros- 
pect of temporary relief. 

In the morning the physician saw his patient again, 
and after breakfast he set forth on his return to York. 

“ I have a report to make to the king which may be 
of more service to the outlawed prince than can be any 
medicine which I can give.” 

Oswald believed he knew the nature of that report, 
and he sought not to delay the doctor’s departure ; but, 
on the other hand, he hastened it all he could. 

Good Oswald,” cried Edwin, as the two stood in the 
hall after the physician had gone, what is the meaning 
of the man’s haste to be gone ? What is the errand he 
has to do ?” 

Can you not guess ?” replied the lieutenant. 

‘‘ Were I to guess,” answered the youth with tremu- 
lous eagerness, I should say first that there was hope, 
now that my father is near his death, that his prayer 
would be heard, and that the edict of outlawry would 
be removed, that he might die a true and loyal prince 
of the realm.” 

“ And I,” said Oswald with a smile, shoiild guess 
the same. But mind you, it is only a guess, after all.” 



CHAPTER VI. 

A SPY AT ANWICK. 

The outlaw of An wick lay upon his couch with little 
sense of surrounding things, and Oswald and Edwin did 
most of the watching. On the third day from his 
departure, the physician came again, and this time two 
officers of the royal household came with him. He met 
Oswald in the court, and inquired if Cadwallader still 
lived. 

He is breathing, sir ; but there is little left of life,’' 
was the lieutenant’s reply. 

‘‘Then,” pursued the leech, “ there can be no harm in 
allowing these two gentlemen to see him ?” 

“ Not at all. I will lead the way at once if you 
desire.’ 

“The sooner, the better,” responded the visitor; and 
without further remark, Oswald conducted the new- 
comers to the chamber of the outlaw. 

It required not the skill of a physician to tell that the 
man was dying. The eyes were sunken, and glowed 
with that cold, changeless light which bespeaks the lay- 
ing-on of the icy hand ; the lips were bloodless ; the 
breathing was heavy and labored ; and the pulses at the 
wrist had entirely failed. The physician stood for a 
moment over the shattered form, and then turned to 
the two men who had accompanied him. 


64 


The Royal Outlaw, 


‘‘ Gentlemen,’’ he said, ‘‘the man is dying. He has 
not many hours to live at best ; and he may not live an 
hour.” 

“ Present us to him, and let us see if he has sense 
to understand our business,” returned the foremost of 
the two. 

“ Let me arouse him,” interposed Oswald. He will 
understand me better than he could a stranger. My 
lord,” he continued, approaching the bed, and laying 
his hand upon Cadwallader’s brow, “ the physician has 
returned, and with him have come two messengers 
from the king. Will you attend to them ?” 

“From the king!” cried the dying man, while a 
momentary flash of the eye told he understood. “ Have 
they come with my pardon ? Have they come to tell 
me that Cadwallader is once more a prince of the 
realm ?” 

“ Yes, my lord,” answered the physician. “ Allow 
me to introduce to you two gentlemen from the royal 
household. They are Barhulf and Adelstane.” 

“Adelstane?” repeated the prince, looking up, “I 
remember him very well.” 

“ Aye,” responded the man who bore that name, 
moving up to the bedside ; “ but it has been many years 
since we met, and we have both changed during the 
intervening time.” 

“Ah me I” groaned the invalid, carrying his right 
hand to his brow, and pressing it there as though to help 
his thought. “ I have sorely, sadly changed. But 
’tis almost over. The last great change is at hand, and 
beyond that God grant that all may be well. Adelstane, 
you have come from the king.” 


A Spy at Anwick. 


65 


“ Yes/' replied the officer ; ^^and I bring with me his 
majesty's pardon. Shall I read it ?" 

Aye, — let me hear it." 

Adelstane drew from his bosom a parchment roll, and 
having opened it he proceeded to read its contents. It 
was a wordy affair framed after the quaint manner of 
the time and done by the grace of God," and by the 
will of his most royal majesty. King of Northumbria 
and Walda of Britain." It extended to Cadwallader, 
son of Magaff, full and ample pardon for all offence 
committed against the peace and harmony of the realm, 
and against the laws thereof ; and it moreover restored 
him to his full rank as prince and freeman of the 
kingdom, with all the rights and privileges thereunto 
appertaining. The document bore the royal seal and 
signature, and also the name of four witnesses, of whom 
Barhulf and Adelstane were two. When the reading 
had been concluded, Cadwallader reached forth his 
hand and took the instrument, and having pressed it to 
his lips, he extended it to his lieutenant. 

Good Oswald, into your hands I gave this precious 
document. Preserve it as you would your own life, — 
keep it for my son — for Edwin." 

“ But what is it to me ?" cried the youth, who had 
listened to the reading with breathless eagerness, and 
now spoke for the first time. His face was flushed, his 
fingers clenched, and his lips tightly compressed. “ What 
is it to me ?" he repeated with increased vehemence. “ I 
am not mentioned. I am still an outlaw. My father 
will die and his son will be doomed, as the sire has been 
doomed, to wear out an aimless, useless existence 
upon Anwick Isle ! It is mockery ! O ! out upon the 
foul, hard-hearted tyrant who could conceive such a 


66 


The Royal Outlaw. 


thing ! What is this pardon but a blank parchment ? 
Whom does it benefit ? Whom lift from outlawry ? 
God himself is about to take my father from the bond 
of exile, and this comes at a moment when the king 
knows that it can be of no effect. I say to you, Adelstane, 
tell the king from me — 

At this point Oswald placed his hand upon the youth’s 
shoulder, and drew him aside. 

Edwin,” he said, with calm and earnest dignity, and 
with a slight touch of reproof in his look and tone, 
‘‘ you forget yourself. You have much cause for regret, 
but you should nevertheless rejoice that from your 
honored father’s name and memory the taint of out- 
lawry is forever removed. There has been no hypocricy 
in the king’s course. He has not professed to restore 
the prince to the line of succession to any earthly right, 
but only to remove the ban that he might die in the 
full possession of his rank and title. Is it not something 
that your father, ere he passed away from earth, is 
restored to his true place among the lords of the realm ? 
Think of it, my boy, and let your heart be glad.” 

The young man shook his head, and would have 
spoken still in a moody strain, but Oswald, divining his 
intent, interrupted him by adding : 

We are met to make light and grateful your father’s 
dying hour, will you not — ” 

Forgive me!” cried Edwin, his heart quickly touched, 
by this appeal. I knew not what I said.” And then 
a generous impulse quickening his spirit, he turned to 
the officers and continued : 

I beg your pardon, gentlemen. I was disappointed — 
bitterly disappointed. It is hard to dwell upon the pros- 
pect of a lifetime of exile and outlawry in this place 


A Spy at Anwzck. 


67 


and that, too, not from any act of mine, but from the 
mere accident of my birth/' 

“ It is hard, indeed," admitted Adelstane, “ but you 
will bear us witness that we are not to blame." 

In mercy, gentlemen, think not that I intended or 
thought of blame to you. No, no ! I can only be 
thankful that you have done what you have, and I bless 
you for it." 

And," said Adelstane, there is no telling how much 
this pardon of your father may affect you in the time to 
come. You are young yet, and the season for hope may 
be long." 

“ Let me speak," came from the lips of the dying man. 

Edwin, where are you ?" 

“ I am here, my father." 

Give me your hand." 

The youth knelt at the side of the low couch, and 
gave both his hands to the aged prince. A few moments 
of silence, and then Cadwallader spoke : 

As the scenes of earth close upon me, and the spirit 
feels the bonds of clay breaking and loosing, my mind 
seems to reach forth into the future with something of 
prophetic power. There are clouds about me here, and 
all is dark and drear — all dark, save the love of Oswald 
and of my child — but I see light beyond, and the gleams 
reveal to me more of promise than I have heretofore 
seen. There is hope for you, my son. Not long shall 
the tyrant's power prevail. Be of goodbheer, and put 
your trust in heaven. Oswald will not forsake you. He 
has promised that he will remain with you ; and while 
you can lean upon his strong and faithful arm, you may 
feel that one-half the disability of your outlawry is 
rernoyed. — The light grows brighter and stronger 


68 


The Royal Outlaw. 


beyond the vale, and I see a strong hand reaching forth 
for your guidance and support. Courage, my boy. It 
is no idle phantasy of my imagination, but I see it all as 
plainly as you can see the face of him who speaks. 
Only one injunction have I to lay upon you.*' 

When I am gone, you must look to Oswald for coun- 
sel, and obey him as you would obey me, were I to live. 
Will you do this ?’* 

Yes, my father. I shall do it most gladly ; and I 
may say that it needed not your injunction to lead me 
thither. When I forget to honor Oswald in perfect love 
and obedience, my reason will have fallen from its 
throne.’* 

Bless you, my boy, bless you !** 

The dying prince closed his eyes, still holding the 
youth by the hand ; and when he opened them again 
they were lighted up with a new fire which flashed out 
as flashes the last leaping flame of the beacon ere it dies 
out forever. 

Edwin, trust me — believe me ; the hour is at hand 
in the which you shall have reason to bless God for His 
abundant mercy.** 

Oswald, pale and trembling, and evidently struggling 
fiercely with some powerful emotion which he sought in 
vain to subdue, moved to the bedside and drew Edwin 
away. 

Hush !’* he said, placing one hand upon Cadwalla- 
der’s shoulder, whifewith the other he smoothed the hair 
away from the clammy brow. You know not what 
you say. It is only idle breath ; and you would give 
your son hopes that can only lead him to more bitter 
disappointment.** 

The invalid trembled from head to foot and sought to 


A Spy at Anwzck. 


69 


speak, but his words failed him, and only a shapeless 
murmuring escaped his lips. 

Pardon me, my lord ; but for the sake of your 
unhappy boy seek not to instil such thoughts into his 
mind. We all know full well that, in the king’s own 
good time, he will do as he pleases with Edwin ; and 
until then it were idle to think of release for him.” 

‘‘You are right, Oswald,” returned the prince, in a 
gasping tone. “ In my pain and delirium I fancied — ” 

He ceased speaking from want of strength ; and, as 
soon as it could be done, Oswald conducted the visitors 
from the apartment. The physician took Edwin by the 
hand ere he went, and said to him : 

“ If you would receive your father’s dying blessing, 
leave him not. His hours — aye, his minutes — are 
numbered. 

And the man of medicine spoke truly. Shortly after 
he and his companions had gone, the prince started up 
to a sitting posture and extended his hand towards 
Oswald. There was once more that flaring of light in 
his eye, and for the moment there was a flush upon his 
cheek. 

“ My best and truest of friends,” he cried, “ ere I die 
let me hear from your lips that I have done all things 
well.” 

“ Aye, my more than master,” returned Oswald, sink- 
ing again upon his knees and holding the extended 
hands,” you have done nobly.” 

“ Then I die content. Bless you — bless you, my 
Oswald ! bless you, my son ! Pray for me — pray to 
God, and to the dear Redeemer of sinful men — Ah, there 
is that light again. In the future I see great things 
that are to come upon the exile of An wick.” 


70 


The Royal Outlaw. 


Those were the last words he spoke. Sinking back 
upon his pillow, he closed his eyes ; and presently after- 
wards his breath ceased without a struggle of any kind. 
As calmly and quietly as sinks the weary wayfarer to rest 
when sweet sleep comes to his relief sank the care-worn 
pilgrim into that sleep which knows no earthly awaken- 
ing. 

“ Good Oswald,” said Edwin, as the two stood 
together by the side of the lifeless form, ‘^you were 
most strangely affected by my father’s speech when he 
told of the things he saw in his vision — when he 
declared that the things of the future were opened to 
his ken.” 

Aye, my boy ; and I had good reason. Your father 
was wild and thoughtless. He forgot that there were 
present those who might bear his words to the king. I 
know not what he might have said if I had not stopped 
him ; but even as it is I tremble for the consequences. 
You, Edwin, have little knowledge of the supersition 
that prevails among the people of England. The influ- 
ence of the wild and warlike Druids is far from being 
done away. Your education thus far you have derived 
almost entirely from me, and I have sought to hold your 
mind above such things ; but among the people, and at 
the royal court, the prognostications of seers, and espec- 
ially the prophecies of dying men, are held in awe and 
reverence. You did not notice the effect of your father’s 
words upon the physician and his companions ; but I 
did. I saw that they not only heard; but that they 
were affected thereby. Oswy is one of the most super- 
stitious men of the times ; and you know what the power 
of superstition is in the mind of a coward tyrant whose 
throne is fixed in wrong and iniquity. Think what may 


A Spy at Anwzck. 


71 


be the result should these men tell to the king that it 
had been foretold by a dying seer that you should ere 
long succeed to the rights of which you have been bereft. 
By every law of right and justice yoM are legal heir to 
the throne.’' 

“I see, — I see,” exclaimed Edwin. I now compre- 
hend the danger that lurked in my father’s speech ; and 
I can easily understand why you were so moved. But 
perhaps your turning of the subject as you did may have 
overcome the effect that was produced upon the minds 
of our visitors.” 

Oswald shook his head in a doubting manner. He 
hoped no evil might result ? but he could not feel sure. 

All we can do,” he said, is to be on the watch. I 
fear that the king will hold you in mortal dread ; and if 
he does, we have work to do — work to do and the 
utmost caution to exercise. For a time we must sus- 
pect everything and everybody not bound to us by the 
most sacred ties. You do not know the extent of the 
danger that may lurk in your path ; but I am with you, 
my boy, — and while I have a life to give it is at your 
command.” 

I have lost one father,” murmured the youth, turning 
a look upon the cold emblem of mortality that lay upon 
the couch ; but,” he added, throwing himself upon 
Oswald’s bosom, in you I have a father who can be 
more to me than he ever was ! — Not that I loved him 
less, — O, no, no, — ^but I love you with a quicker, stronger 
love, because upon you I have leaned for support ever 
since I have had sense and memory !” 

***** 

The physician, accompanied by Barhulf and Adel- 


72 


The Royal Outlaw. 


stane, visited the chamber of the dead after the body 
had been clad for the grave, and then they took their 
departure for the capital. 

‘‘They go,'* said Oswald, as the boat which took them 
to the mainland put off from the shore, “ to tell to their 
royal master that the son of his brother is no more ; 
and upon what they tell concerning the youthful prince 
that remains depends much of our weal or woe for the 
time to come.** 

“ Indeed, Oswald** interposed our hero, “ I think you 
are more fearful than there is any occasion for. Think : 
For these long, long years we have abode here, and the 
king has never molested us. Why should they do dif- 
ferently now ?** 

“ Ah, my boy, there is much that you do not consider. 
The king has only to fear that man who can claim heir- 
ship to the throne. While your father lived you could 
do no such thing. Your father was then the heir ; and 
you know that he was not to be feared by any one. Not 
only was he broken in body, but his mind even was so 
shattered that he had not one thought of seeking a 
crown. But how is it now ? Now a youthful prince, 
full of fire and vigor, stout and strong, and just such an 
one as the people would hasten to honor and obey, has 
succeeded to the heirship which stands in Oswy’s way, 
and in the way of his corrupt and vicious son. The 
bold warriors of Northumbria do not look with favor 
upon Prince Sigbert ; and were they once to know what 
manner of a prince dwells upon Anwick Isle, with the 
blood of the royal Magaff flowing in his veins, it is more 
than possible that they might demand his release and 
recall. I tell you, my noble boy, as sure as the sun 
rules the day, the King of Northumbria will henceforth, 


A Spy at Anwick. 


73 


when his messengers shall have reported to him what 
they have seen and heard here, find no rest until the son 
of Cadwallader is out of his way/' 

Edwin affected to believe that Oswald's fears were 
groundless, but very shortly was he to know, to his sor- 
row, that they had ample foundation. 

A bishop was sent from York to officiate at the fun- 
eral ; and though the king came not, yet he sent several 
of his chief officers to represent his court. These offi- 
cers conversed with Edwin, and one of them, a dark- 
browed, sinister-looking man, was especially eager to 
draw him out, and ascertain the extent of his knowledge 
and acquirements. At first the youth, led by a laudable 
ambition, and desirous of doing honor to his good tutor, 
was free and unrestrained in his replies, exhibiting the 
rich stores of sense, and giving token of the wondrous 
prowess of body, that were his leading characteristics. 
Oswald at length discovered the man's habit, and 
readily divining his purpose, he warned Edwin to be- 
ware of him. But the caution came to late. The spy — 
for such he was — and his name Marwald — had learned 
all he sought to learn, and he asked no more. 

The lieutenant knew this Marwald very well — ^knew 
him for one of Oswy’s ready tools ; an unscrupulous, 
designing knave ; and one to be feared under any cir- 
cumstances, because even his friendship could only be 
selfish, and his service a galling bond. A week the 
party spent at the castle, and then took their leave. 

Norna was glad when they were gone ; for while they 
had been present, Oswald had so earnestly entreated 
that she and Edwin should not be seen together that 
they had implicity obeyed him ; but now that the spies 
were gone she could once more enjoy the society of the 


74 


The Royal Oiitlaw. 


prince, and she had come to know how precious it was 
to her. 

The evening was calm and serene, and until a late 
hour the youthful pair walked upon the rampart. 
When they finally turned their steps towards the keep 
they had become sad and thoughtful, and there were 
signs of tears in Norna’s eyes, when the time of separa- 
tion came. Edwin dared not ask her why she sighed, 
nor why the soft melody of her voice was so mournful ; 
but as he held her hand in the hall, with the parting 
word upon his lips, of her own accord she confessed that 
she feared for him. She had heard Oswald’s words of 
warning, and she feared — aye, she felt in her soul — that 
there was mortal danger to the man whom, in the 
secret depths of her heart, she loved best on .earth. It 
was no longer a secret to her. She loved the gallant 
prince, and to herself she owned it freely. 

Edwin smiled at her fears, and spoke words of cheer 
with his “good-night,” and yet when he was alone, in 
the quiet retreat of his own chamber, a leaden weight 
sank down upon his heart, and, in spite of every effort, 
a spirit of sadness possessed him. Once he thought of 
seeking Oswald and passing the night with him ; but 
that would be childish, and he put away the impulse. 
A full hour his head pressed the pillow, and dark phan- 
toms drove sleep away. Again he thought of seeking 
Oswald, and again a spirit of pride kept him where he 
was. 

At length, worn and wearied, he sank into an uneasy, 
dreamful slumber, and fearful visions troubled him. 
He dreamed that he was again upon the deck of the 
wrecked ship, and that two men of a dark-visaged party 
sought to put him back from his post that they might 


The Spy at Anwick. 


75 


save themselves before the maiden and her father were 
saved. He turned towards them, and was about to 
strike one of them down, when something fell upon his 
head with a stunning force. He started up with a loud 
cry, and remembered that he was in his bed ; but not 
alone. It had not been all a dream. Dark-visaged men 
were about him, and he had received a blow upon the 
head. Like a flash the events of the past shot through 
his mind, and he knew that enemies had gained 
entrance to his chamber. 

Quick, my men ! Let there be no alarm given 
It was Marwald’s voice ; and the prince saw, by the 
dim light of a horn lantern which one of the rufflans 
held, Marwald’s form and face. He had seen this, and 
was preparing to leap from his bed, when a second blow 
fell upon his head, and a quick sense of pain and dark- 
ness followed. He knew that he was lifted from his 
couch, and once more the sound of the spy’s voice rum- 
bled in his ear ; and at that point the curtain fell, and 
he knew no more ! 



■ ? 



CHAPTER VII. 

ANWICK IN COMMOTION. 

On that same night which had been the occasion of 
so much unrest to our hero, Oswald was so moved by a 
spirit of uneasiness that little sleep visited his pillow. 
More than once he was tempted to go to Edwin’s apart- 
ment to assure himself that all was well with the youth; 
but he feared that the proud-spirited prince might take 
offense if too much caution were exercised in his behalf, 
so he concluded to let the night pass, and on the mor- 
row make some new arrangement. Thus far Edwin had 
occupied a suite of rooms in the extreme northeastern 
angle of the keep, while Oswald had used the apart- 
ments in the southwestern angle, adjoining those occu- 
pied by Cadwallader. 

Hereafter,” said the lieutenant to himself, Edwin 
must occupy the rooms which have become vacant by 
the death of our master. They are better than those he 
now occupies ; and, moreover, he will thus be near to 
me. It is not strange that I should be uneasy — not at 
all — for I am sure that the king fears the son of Cad- 
wallader ; and I know the tyrant well enough to know 
that any deed necessary to the accomplishment of a 
purpose could not be too evil for him to execute.” 


Anwick in Commotion. 


77 


Once during the night, Oswald fancied he heard an 
unusual sound in the main hall, and having lighted his 
lamp, he went out to take a survey of the premises. 
All was quiet, however ; and when he had assured him- 
self that no one was moving in the hall, nor in any of 
the corridors, he went back to his bed. At the point 
where a passage led toward’s Edwin's apartment he 
stopped, and debated with himself whether he should 
look in upon his beloved pupil ; but why should he dis- 
turb the youth at such an hour ? He would not do it. 
So he passed on, and once more sought to find repose 
in sleep. Had Oswald obeyed the promptings of his 
anxiety, he might have been saved much trial and tribu- 
lation, and others might have been saved from suffer- 
ing ; but the golden opportunity had passed, and the 
coming day was to reveal what had been lost. 

As soon as the first gray tints in the east broke the 
bonds of night, Oswald arose and dressed himself, and 
went directly to Edwin's chamber. He found the door 
ajar, and upon entering he discovered that the youth 
was not there. With a feeling of dread which he could 
not repress, he hastened to see if his pupil was taking 
an early walk. There was no one in the court, and 
there was no one upon the rampart. He looked towards 
the porter's lodge, but the door was closed, and he did 
not seek then to disturb the old sentinel. When he 
returned to the hall he found two of the men servants 
there, and he inquired of them if they had seen Edwin. 

No. They had not seen him since the previous even- 
ing, when they saw him near that very spot with the 
lady Norna. 

Unable to rest under the fearful apprehension that 
had by this time possessed him, Oswald proceeded to 


78 


The Royal Outlaw, 


the door of Norna's apartment, and rapped thereon. A 
voice within told him that his summons had been heard, 
and he then announced his name, and inquired to know 
if the lady could tell him anything of Edwin. There 
was a pause — a rustling of garments — and very soon 
Norna made her appearance, with a long, loose robe 
thrown over her shoulders. She had not stopped to fix 
her hair — ^had done nothing but envelop her form in the 
robe, and had then hastened to know why the lieuten- 
ant came upon such an errand. 

What is it T she cried, as soon as she saw the man’s 
face and marked the expression of the pain-stamped 
features. What has happened to Edwin ?” 

I do not know, lady. Perhaps there is nothing. But 
he is not in his chamber ; he is not in the court, nor is 
he upon the ramparts, and those of the servants who 
are moving have not seen him. You were with him 
last evening — you saw him after I did.” 

‘‘We were together, sir ; and I think it was quite late 
when we separated — so late that the servants had all 
retired. I am sure that he went directly to his own 
apartments when he left me. O ! do you think that 
anything of ill can have befallen him ?” 

“Alas ! I fear so, lady !” 

“And that is why such gloom has darkened my 
spirit,” exclaimed the maiden, wringing her hands in 
pain. “ O, I have felt that something of calamity was 
hanging over me. My heart has been heavy and sad, 
and all my thoughts of the future have been full of 
dark forebodings. But let us search. I will quickly 
dress me, sir \ and you may then command me. O ! 
I should die if mortal ill were to befall the prince !” 

Despite jhis anguish [of mind, Oswald felt a sudden 


Anwzck ill Commotion. 


79 


thrill of pleasure as he observed this effect upon the 
maiden. He saw as plainly as though it had been 
written in living letters upon her brow that she loved 
the prince — loved him passionately ; and such a love as 
was here manifest could not be easily overcome. From 
that moment Norna of Durham took new place in his 
esteem ; and henceforth she was to be as something 
sacred in his estimation. 

Oswald had gone back to the main hall, after having 
looked through all the apartments where he thought 
it possible Edwin could have gone ; and here he was 
joined by Norna and her maid. 

We have not found him yet,'' the lieutenant said, in 
answer to her silent question ; ‘‘ and we will go now 
and find if our old porter can give us any information." 

With this he started for the porter's lodge, Norna 
bearing him company. 

Ah, my dear lady," said Oswald, as they entered the 
court, you know not what deep interests are bound up 
in the youthful prince. I cannot teH you what a sad 
and dire calamity his loss would be." 

‘‘ Oh, good Oswald, do not speak so !" the maiden 
cried, quaking from head to foot. “ He cannot be lost. 
Only these few hours have elapsed since I saw him alive 
and safe. He must be found. He cannot be far away. 
Oh, my soul, what should I do if he were gone from 
me. But it is not so to be. I will not believe it. Per- 
haps the porter can tell us something. The old man 
sleeps late this morning." 

They had arrived at the lodge,, and there were no 
signs yet of any one stirring within. Norna stopped 
and suggested that Oswald should go on in advance, 
and see if the servitor was out of bed. Upon the thresh- 


8o 


The Royal Outlaw. 


old the lieutenant stopped, and presently pointed 
towards the smaller gate, the bolts of which were 
drawn. 

Is it possible,’' he said, '' that Edwin has gone out 
from the castle so early ?” 

Aye,” answered Norna, with a sudden flush of hope. 

That would seem to indicate such a thing. He maybe 
upon the beach !” 

We will soon know.” 

And thus speaking, Oswald opened the door of the 
lodge and went in ; and no sooner had he disappeared 
beyond the small vestibule than a sudden cry of alarm 
from his lips led Norna to follow him. 

It was indeed a startling scene that presented itself 
to their view. Old Penda, half-dressed, lay upon the 
floor — ^his feet lashed firmly together at the ankles, his 
hands bound tightly behind him by a stout cord, the ends 
of which had been carried around the body so as to secure 
the elbows at his sides, while in his mouth was fixed a 
bar of wood, it being forced back until the jaws were 
painfully distended, and held in its place by a cord that 
passed around behind the neck. Oswald saw in a 
moment that the old porter was in mortal agony, and as 
quickly as possible he cut the cord that held the cruel 
gag in its place, and then cast off the bonds from the 
legs and arms. 

It was some time before Penda could speak. The 
muscles of the tongue and jaws had become so swollen 
that, for several minutes after the gag was removed, 
he could only groan and mumble in his pain ; but when 
Norna and her maid had bathed the inflamed parts and 
chafed the surface until the stiffened cords were 
relaxed, he was able to articulate. 


Anwick in Commotion, 


8i 


Oh, good Penda,’' cried Oswald, after he had lifted 
the man to a seat, you know not what I suffer. Speak, 
if you can, and tell me how this was done. Tell me 
what you know of Edwin.*’ 

“ Edwin !” gasped the old porter, with a sudden start. 

And was it evil to Edwin that was meant ?” 

Edwin is missing and cannot be found,” replied 
Oswald ; and the same force that overcame you must 
have taken him. Your tongue is free now ; so speak on 
the best you can.” 

Penda made a sign towards a small locker in one corner 
of the apartment, and having opened the door thereof, 
Oswald discovered a bottle. He placed his finger upon 
it, and the old man nodded in the affirmative, whereupon 
the bottle was handed to him ; and when he had taken 
a hearty draught of the generous wine which it contained, 
his spirits seemed to rise above the pain he still experi- 
enced, and presently he spoke as follows. His utter- 
ance was thick and labored, but his speech was followed 
without difficulty : 

Good Oswald, this is the most dreadful thing that 
ever happened at Anwick ; and had you not come as 
you did I should have died. Don’t be too eager. I must 
think. By the power of Woden, but my thoughts have 
been sadly scattered, and I almost forget where I am. 
Let me see ; I came from the keep last evening, just as 
the sand-horn had been turned. At about ten o’clock, I 
came out and looked to see that the gates were secure, 
and then I went back to the hall and went down with 
the butler and filled my bottle. I saw Edwin and my 
lady in the hall as I came up.” 

“ Yes,” said Norna, as the old man cast an inquiring 


The Royal Otitlaw, 


glance towards her, '' I remember your passing through 
the hall.” 

It must have then been near eleven o'clock,” pur- 
sued Penda. “ I went directly to my lodge ; and when I 
had put my bottle away in the cupboard I thought of 
going to bed ; but I did not go until near midnight. I was 
sleepy enough, but something seemed to whisper to me, 
— ‘ Penda, there is trouble brewing !' However, when 
midnight came I took one more look at the bolts on the 
gates, and then went to bed. I don't know how long I 
had been asleep 5 but I should not think it could have 
been a great while, — when I was aroused by a loud 
knock upon the wicket. I sat up and listened, and when 
the summons was repeated I hastened from my bed, and 
went and answered it. First I demanded to know who 
was there, and the answer came that it was the physician 
who had attended upon Cadwallader. Said I, ‘You 
travel at late hours. Sir Physician.' And he told me 
that on the way his horse had failed him, and he had 
been obliged to come a long distance on foot. That it 
was not the physician’s voice did not then occur to me, 
because the wonder of why he had come at that hour 
entirely occupied my mind. Without thinking of harm 
I threw back the bolts, and opened the wicket — opened 
it just so that I could look out to see if the physician 
was alone. 

“ But my precaution was of no use, for no sooner had 
the gate moved upon its hinges than two men violently 
forced it open, and two more rushed in and seized me ; 
and before I could make the least cry of alarm my 
mouth was stopped, and I was thrown back into my 
lodge, where I was bound and gagged as you found me. 
The ruffians told me they meant me no harm, only they 


Anwick in Commotion. 


83 


must secure me so that I could not betray them ; they 
did not tell me their business ; and as their first pre- 
caution was to stop my mouth, of course I could ask 
them no questions. When they had bound me fast they 
left me, closing the door behind them as they went out. 
I should think they were gone half an hour, though I 
could not be sure upon that point, as my position was 
not very favorable to a clear reckoning of anything. I 
heard them when they came back ; heard them open 
the wicket, and pass out, and then close the way. And 
I heard nothing more until you came and set me free.'* 
“ Did you see the physician ?’* asked Oswald. 

No. I am sure he was not there. I saw five men. 
There were two who opened the wicket, then there 
were two more who rushed in and seized me ; and then 
there was another who stood back, and whose face I 
could not see. But he was not the physician, because 
he was altogether too short of stature." 

“ Then you knew none of them T 
“ Not one, good Oswald. I cannot tell you who they 
were, whence they came, nor whither they went. I can 
only swear that they were villains of the darkest dye ; 
and if they have taken our beloved prince away, I fear 
we shall never see him again. They were stout fellows 
— ruffians by nature." 

In mercy's name," cried Norna, grasping Oswald by 
the hand, let us put men upon their track if we can. 
Do not tell me that the prince cannot be found. We 
will not say that until all effort that sense can dictate 
and the power at our command can put in operation 
has proved of no avail." 

Oswald stood for some moments like one upon whom 
a stunning blow has fallen — stood with his eyes bent 


84 


The Royal Outlaw. 


upon the floor, one hand pressed upon his brow, and his 
lips tightly compressed. Suddenly he started into life, 
and his soul was in arms for the work before him. 

The king has done this wicked thing !” he exclaimed, 
with a vehement stamp of the foot. “ I can see Oswy’s 
hand in it as plainly as though the whole story were 
written out before me. I will send men in different 
directions upon the search ; and as for myself, I will at 
once away to York, and beard the lion in his den. If 
the tyrant hath plotted for Edwin's fall, I will know it." 

With this he led Norna back to the keep, and having 
urged her to go to her chamber and rest quietly while 
he turned to the work in hand, he called such of the 
servants as were within reach, and directed them at 
once to summon all the retainers of Anwick. 

In less than an hour full four-score men were 
assembled in the great hall of the castle — some of them 
servants of the household, some men-at-arms, who 
occupied quarters within the walls, while the rest were 
peasants and fishermen, whose cots dotted the pleasant 
vales of the island. These latter to the number of two- 
score and ten, had come upon the island with the 
Prince's permission, and in consideration of certain 
privileges granted by the lord of the isle, they were 
bound to render aid in return whenever it might be 
called for. And no aid that could have been sought at 
the hands of .these hardy dependents would have been 
given grudgingly, for they loved Edwin, and they loved 
Oswald ; and they rather complained, than otherwise, 
that they were not called upon to do enough for their 
master. 

To the assembled host, Oswald told what had hap- 
pened — told it just as it had come to him — and then 


A^iwtck hi Commotion. 


85 


demanded to know who would go in search of the 
missing prince. There was one grand shout in response 
— grand in its power, and grand in its rich chord of 
sympathy and devotion — and then the eager men 
gathered more closely around the lieutenant, while he 
proceeded to give them his directions. 

As all were anxious to go, he gave course to as many 
as could be profitably employed. Some he sent to the 
north, some he sent south, some were to go to the west, 
while others were to take boats and travel thus towards 
the east. 

“ And whither go you C demanded the leader of the 
men-at-arms who were to remain for the protection of 
the castle. 

“I go to York answered Oswald, raising himself 
proudly to his fullest height. I go to see the king.” 




CHAPTER VIII. 

THE SEARCH, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 

With two of his most trusty serving-men to bear him 
company, Oswald started for the city of York. Upon 
the main land, very near to the shore, was a stable, 
kept for the accommodation of those dwellers upon 
Anwick Isle who had the right and the wish to ride 
on horseback ; and here the lieutenant stopped and 
selected three of the best animals the place afforded. 

It was past noon when the party drew near to Fimber 
Wood, and as they reached the brow of a long, high 
hill, they observed a horseman just coming in sight 
from beyond a thick copse of maples, and presently 
came another, and another, until finally six well- 
mounted and thoroughly armed knights appeared to 
view at the foot of the hill. 

“ 'Fore Heaven, Tostig, yonder is a gallant show of 
knighthood cried Oswald. 

Aye answered Tostig, ‘‘ it hath a royal look.'' 

Those are knights of Oswy's household, else my 
eyes deceive me," ventured the other attendant, a stout 
archer named Ralph. 

By my soul!" exclaimed Oswald, upon taking a second 
look, ‘‘ I think the king himself is there. Who is that 


The Search and What Came of It, 87 


man upon the black charger — the one who turns and 
addreses his companion upon his left, and whose silvery 
hair and beard contrast so strongly with the color of 
the beast he rides.?’' 

It is Oswy,” returned Ralph. ‘‘ Do you think he 
is on his way to Anwick?” 

‘‘ By heaven ! I cannot imagine. But we can ride on 
and see. If he be in truth bound to our island we may 
save him the trouble of half his journey. Come — let us 
meet them ere they come far up the hill.” 

Thus speaking, Oswald put spurs to his horse, his 
companions following close behind, and as they began 
to descend the hill the party at the foot hauled up and 
awaited their approach. As the lieutenant drew near 
he recognized the king very plainly, and pulling in his 
rein at a respectful distance he removed his hat and 
made a low bow. 

‘‘ I give your majesty a fair day and a happy meeting,” 
pronounced Oswald, forcing out the sentence each word 
of which galled him as he uttered it. 

‘‘ How now ?” cried the king. Is not this the stout 
lieutenant of An wick Isle V 
Yes, sire.” 

As the king received this affirmative response he 
turned and spoke in an undertone to the cavalier by his 
side. He was an old man — past three-score and ten ; 
his hair and beard white as snow, and his form some- 
what bent, though not entirely bereft of its manly 
strength and vigor. In other years, when in his prime, 
he must have been a stout knight, for even now his 
shoulders were broad, and the frame, though stripped 
of its outer comliness, was heavy and massive. But 
Oswy was not the knight he had once been ; and no one 


88 


The Royal Outlaw. 


knew this better than he knew it himself, for no one else 
could feel the silent touch of time and the shattering 
force of care as could he. Ah, Oswy knew very well 
that he had not much longer to stop on earth ; and of 
late this knowledge had led to such continuous reflec- 
tion upon the subject, that fear of death made him not 
only unhappy, but made him more morose and tyranical 
than had been his wont. 

‘‘ Good Oswald,’’ said the king, with a most affable 
smile, it is a curious circumstance that we should 
meet here. Finding you upon this road, with your face 
turned to the west, I should judge that you were on 
your way to York.” 

‘‘You judge rightly, sire.” 

“And at this self-same hour I am on my way 
to Anwick Isle. Business prevented my being 
present at Cadwallader’s funeral ; but, finding leisure 
this morning, and being desirous of escaping the turmoil 
of the court, I took a fancy to ride forth and visit young 
Edwin, Cadwallader’s son. I have had a strong desire 
to see him, and this long time have I promised myself 
the pleasure which until now I have not found oppor- 
tunity to grasp. Is your business at York of impor- 
tance ?” 

“The business which has called me away from 
Anwick, sire, is to ascertain, if possible, what has 
become of the youth of whom you speak.” 

“Ha!” cried the king in a startled manner, “has 
Edwin fled from Anwick ? Has he dared to break — ” 

“ You mistake, sire,” interrupted the lieutenant. 
“ Edwin has been forcibly seized and dragged away 
from the castle against his will.” 

“ Have a care, Oswald. Do not think to cover up the 


The Search a 7 id What Came of It, 89 


youth's crime by falsehood. If he has purposely fled 
from the bonds which our royal edict had imposed upon 
him I shall be sure to know it.'* 

The rich blood mounted to Oswald's brow, and his 
hands were clutched with nervous force ; but he did not 
let his indignation manifest itself in speech. As soon 
as he could safely trust his tongue, he modestly, yet 
firmly replied : 

Sire, Oswald of Anwick hath never yet found occa- 
sion for speaking falsehood. What I tell thee is true. 
Last night five men gained entrance to our castle, and 
dragged our prince away." 

But how could it have been ?" demanded Oswy. 
‘‘ How could such a party have gained entrance ? And 
how could they have done such a thing as bear away an 
unwilling- man without arousing the household ?" 

The thing was easily done, your majesty." 

By my faith, it doth not so appear to me." 

“ Let me explain," said Oswald, struggling hard to 
hold his speech within the bounds of propriety. “ In 
the first place, the ruffians came to the gate after mid- 
night, and having aroused the porter, one of the number 
represented himself to be the physician of York, who 
had attended upon Cadwallader ; and he explained that 
an accident to his horse had thus belated him. With no 
cause for doubting the assertion, the porter opened the 
wicket, and ere he could give alarm he was thrown 
down and gagged, and bound, and shut up in his lodge 
where I found him this morning almost dead. Having 
accomplished thus much, the rest was easy to those who 
knew the location of Edwin's chamber, for it is situated 
in an extreme angle of the keep, far away from the 


90 


The Royal Outlaw. 


apartment which I occupied, and, of course, far removed 
from the servants' quarters." 

“ And had the youth no attendant ?" asked the king. 

‘‘No, sire. Since reaching the age of manhood he 
has been his own only attendant, requiring no menial 
service in his hours of study and repose." 

“ But," said the monarch, with a doubtful shake of the 
head. “ I cannot comprehend what manner of design 
could have led to such an abduction. I cannot conceive 
who could have an end to answer by such an outrage. 
Sir Lieutenant, the thing puzzles me. If you are sure 
that Edwin has been forcibly taken from the castle ; if 
you feel that you can give me your knightly oath that 
he was dragged away against his will, I must believe 
you, even though my reason cannot so readily bend to 
the acknowledgement." 

“ Sire, answered the commandment of Anwick, bend- 
ing low his head, more to hide the fire that flashed in 
his eyes than in token of respect, “ I have told you 
truly." 

“ You have not told me, however, whom you suspect," 
pursued Oswy. 

“ Because I know not upon whom my suspicion may 
be fastened, sire." 

“ But have you not some thought in that direction ? 
You were on your way to York. What did you expect 
to find there ?" 

“ Sire, my first movement this morning, was to send our 
men out in search. My next was to seek your majesty. 
I knew that the young prince was under your edict, and 
that, were he found beyond the limits of Anwick Isle^ 
any loyal subject might slay him. You remember how 
severe the penalty was." 


The Search and What Came of It, 91 


Aye, you are right. It is as you say. His life would 
be in jeopardy ; and I have no doubt that our loyal 
subjects everywhere would hasten to arrest him, should 
they see and recognize him.*' 

An emotion of scorn and contempt, mingled with 
deeper wrath and hatred, made such havoc with the 
calmness which had until now dwelt upon Oswald’s 
face, that both Ralph and Tostig trembled with alarm ; 
but the old king did not appear to notice it. His vision 
may have been dim with age, or his preceptions obtuse. 

However," pursued Oswy, we will see that his life 
is spared ; or, at least, a proclamation shall be issued to 
that effect. And, moreover, it shall be our royal aim to 
find the youth if possible. We will send couriers out 
and cause general search to be made." 

The king looked towards the lieutenant as though 
expecting a reply ; but the latter knew not what to say 
The thought that filled his mind he dared not express, 
and these thoughts he could not put away for others. 
After a lengthy pause, Oswy remarked : 

“ By the way, good Oswald, you have not told me if 
you recognized either of the ruffians." 

I did not see them, sire." 

But did your porter recognize them V' 

He did not." 

Think you he would know them if he saw them 
again ?" 

‘‘ I cannot say, sire. Perhaps he would ; though I 
think he had no fair view of either of their faces." 

Very well. Then the matter must rest as it is until 
something more is discovered. And as he whom I 
wished to see is no longer at Anwick, there can be no 
use in my continuing my journey. Also, Sir Lieutenant, 


92 


The Royal Outlaw. 


the need of your visit to York having been met in this 
interview, you can turn about and retrace your steps/’ 

“ Certainly, sire,” responded Oswald, with a low 
inclination of the head. 

“ And, furthermore,” added the monarch, “ should 
you learn anything of Edwin’s whereabouts or of the 
manner of his abduction, you will speedily give me 
information ; and, on the other hand, I assure you that 
we will cheerfully transmit to Anwick any information 
which may be gained at York.” 

“ I shall not forget sire ; and your wish shall be 
complied with.” 

A pleasant return. Sir Lieutenant ; and allow me to 
hope that favorable news may await your arrival at 
Anwick.” 

‘‘ God grant it !” ejaculated Oswald. 

Thus speaking, he once more removed his hat, and 
having waved it in token of farewell, he turned his 
horse’s head and started back up the hill ; and at the 
same time the royal party turned back towards York. 

At the summit of the eminence Oswald stopped, and 
gazed back upon the spot where the meeting had taken 
place. 

‘‘ Oh, thou false-hearted man !” he exclaimed, ‘‘ all thy 
lies cannot hide the truth from me.” 

What, think you, was the king’s purpose in his pro- 
jected visit to Anwick ?” asked Tostig. 

It was only a ruse,” replied the lieutenant. He 
would have taken all this trouble to remove suspicion 
from himself. He hath done the wickedness. They 
were instruments of his who did his biding in abducting 
our prince. Think you he cared to see Edwin of 
Anwick ?” 


The Search and What Came of It, 93 


By the Great Thunderer !” exclaimed Tostig, I see 
it now I 

^‘Aye/* added Oswald, ‘‘and we may depend upon it 
that one or more of the ruffians were at the funeral of 
Cadwallader, and thus gained a knowledge of the 
situation of the different apartments of the castle. It 
has been a deep laid scheme for some time past, and 
thus had it been brought to a consummation.*' 

“ And what shall we do now ?’* queried Ralph. 

“Upon my soul," cried Oswald, smiting his fist upon 
the bow of his saddle, “ I know not what to do. If I 
thought our prince had been taken to York, I would 
hang upon the rear of the king and hold my original 
course ; but I do not think it. Oswy would not have 
had him taken in that direction. No, no," he added, 
after bowing his head a few moments in thought, “ I 
am sure that York is no longer our point. All I hoped 
to gain in that direction has been gained and now we 
may look elsewhere. My only object in going to York 
was to discover whether the king had caused Edwin’s 
seizure. That I have discovered. There can be no 
doubt — no more than we might entertain upon the ques- 
tion of whether we had seen and spoken with the 
royal plocter. We will return to Anwick and see what 
intelligence awaits us there," 

Night had been brooding over the earth an hour or 
more when Oswald and his companions applied at the 
gate of the castle for entrance, and old Penda made 
very sure whom he was to admit before he opened the 
wicket. 

“ Had the new-comers learned anything of the prince ?" 

Oswald shook his head. 

“ Have any of our people returned ?" he asked. 


94 


The Royal Outlaw. 


replied Penda. You will find them in the 

hall. 

To the hall Oswald hastened, where he found a score 
or more of his men assembled. Touching the result of 
his own search he simply related what had occurred, 
without entering into any explanation ; and from what 
information others had obtained he gained the following : 

Early on the evening of the previous day a boat, con- 
taining quite a number of men, had been pulled to the 
shore of a deep rock-bound cove some two leagues or 
more south of the island. Part of the boat’s crew had 
landed, and gone up into the country, while the others 
had pulled out to sea again. So much had been gained 
from a fisherman whose hut stood a short distance from 
where the boat had touched in the cove. 

Another fisherman living upon one of the smaller 
islands south of Anwick, who had been at work till far 
into the night upon his nets, had heard the sound of 
oars. He went down to the shore to see if he could 
make out the boat, but the night was so dark, and the 
boat so far away, that he could not see it. After listen- 
ing awhile, however, he judged that the boat was being 
pulled away from Anwick Isle ; and knowing that there 
had recently been visitors there on the occasion of the 
funeral, he thought nothing strange of the matter. 

One thing further had been learned — a circumstance 
which, added to the others, had much weight : On that 
same evening, just at nightfall, a vessel had been seen 
lying-to off the islands. She had made her appearance 
standing in from the eastward ; had come to within two 
leagues of the islands ; and had there rested, with her 
after sails laid aback, until the darkness of night shut 
her from view. 


The Search and What Came of It. 95 


This was all ; and to Oswald it was far more than 
enough. He knew that Norna was waiting for him in 
the hall, and as soon as he had dismissed his retainers 
to their respective abodes he went out to meet her. 

The maiden stood alone at the foot of the great stone 
stair- way, and when she saw the lieutenant she advanced 
and took his hand. 

‘^Not here, lady. Let us seek some place more 
retired ; for I have that to say to thee which I would 
not say to others."' 

And he led her to the chamber which had been Cad- 
wallader's private room of state, where all business with 
his people had been done. When the door had been 
closed behind them, and they had seated themselves, 
Norna, with a calm, rational bearing and intonation, 
made haste to speak as follows : 

Good Oswald, ere we approach this subject you 
must understand the feelings of her to whom you 
speak. You told me you had that to say to me which 
you would not say to others ; and so have I to speak to 
thee that which I would not now speak even to my own 
father. I have heard from my father to-day, and he 
will be here very shortly, — perhaps in a very few days ; 
— but I shall not leave Anwick until I know something 
of Edwin. Or, at least, until a reasonable time shall 
have shov\m that there can be nothing to wait for, — 
which direful thing my God avert !" 

Oswald, I know that your prince loves me — that he 
loves me as he hath never loved woman before.” 

“ Aye, lady,” broke in the stout knight, with kindling 
eye ; “ I know that full well ; and I know, too, that a 
truer heart never bore love for a daughter of earth. 


96 


The Royal Outlaw, 


Exile and outlaw though he be, his manhood is 
untainted and his honor unstained/' 

‘‘ I know it," resumed Norna, her lip quivering, and a 
warm, rich moisture gathering in her eye. I know it; 
and I have given to him the whole love and devotion of 
my heart, with all its faith and truth ; and I will live 
for him alone while God spares me to earth. And so, 
Oswald, I would have you be frank and free with me. 
I would be prepared for the worst. A hope based upon 
ignorance of danger that really exists is a cruel thing ; 
and a joy born of promise that hath no true foundation 
is only as the sweet exuding of those poisonous trees 
whose final touch is death. I would know the truth, 
just as it is." 

Oswald reached forth and took the maiden's hand, 
and with reverent motion he raised it to his lips. 

Dear, lady, God bless you now and ever ! You have 
placed yourself very near to my heart, and henceforth 
you shall be held by me as a thing pure and sacred, to 
be protected even at the expense of life itself ! And," 
he added gently, dropping her hand, and leaning back 
in his chair, I will trust you in all things as I would 
trust my own self. So, never fear to rely upon what 
you gather from my lips. I may make mistakes ; but I 
will not willingly deceive." 

And then Oswald went on to tell of his meeting with 
the king, and of all the incidents thereof ; then he told 
of his return, and of the information he had gained 
from those of his men who had come back from their 
search. After a pause, Norna said : 

“ Before you set forth from the castle you expressed 
the fear, or the belief, that the king had done this deed. 
Is such your faith now ?" 


The Search and What Came of It, 97 


Yes, lady. I am convinced upon that point.” 

“ And have you summed up the various circumstances 
yet, to see which way they point T 

Yes, Norna ; and I will tell you what appears. The 
boat which came into the cove came from the vessel 
that lay-to off the isles. The men who landed, and came 
up into the country, were the same who came here and 
seized our prince ; and whatever may have been their 
minor movements after that, their final work was to 
convey their victim on board the strange vessel. Of so 
much I am sure ; and beyond this you can judge as 
well as I.” 

In judging beyond that,” suggested Norna, ‘‘ we 
must be governed by the motives which have led to the 
perpetration of the deed.” 

‘‘ Certainly, lady ; and I think those motives are 
plain. Here is the statement from which the deduc- 
tion is to be made : 

Magaff and Oswy were brothers. Magaff was king ; 
and he was a fond and trusting brother. On his death- 
bed he gave his crown and his child into Oswy’s hands ; 
and Oswy was to keep them both until the child, 
Cadwallader, was of age, and then he was to restore the 
crown to the rightful heir. But Oswy, with foul and 
wicked purpose, seized upon a flimsy pretext, and cast 
the royal youth into exile and outlawry. Because the 
young prince loved the beautiful Edilberga, daughter 
of Wulfold, the Danish chieftain, and married her, this 
wrong was cast upon him. O, she was indeed beauti- 
ful ; and she was as pure and good as she was lovely. 
And her father, too, though the Saxon called him 
pirate, was a Danish prince of royal blood. I wish I had 
Edilberga’s portrait. You would love to gaze upon it,” 


98 


The Royal Outlaw. 


‘‘And you have it not?'' said Norna, whose sym- 
pathies had been keenly alive in the Danish maiden's 
favor from the first. 

“ No," returned Oswald. And then, with a gentle 
smile," he added, “ But you might almost find it in 
your mirror. As Edwin loved his mother, and dwelt 
upon her picture as something sacred and saving, I 
have not wondered that he should have loved you from 
the moment when he first saw you ; for, truly, you do 
bear a striking resemblance to that sainted woman. 
But let that pass for the present. Cadwallader roarried, 
and was banished ; and when Cadwallader's son had 
reached the age of understanding he was outlawed 
because he was the son of Edilberga, thus bearing the 
blood of the Pirate King. But Oswy's edict could not 
change stern and stubborn facts. No word of his 
mouth, nor dash of his pen, could unmake the prince 
who was the legitimate son of Magaff, nor cast from the 
line of that royal house the legitimate son of Cadwal- 
lader. This Oswy knew full well. It was a simple thing 
to set free from exile and outlawry his nephew Cadwal- 
lader just as death was about to gather his work into the 
grave. He meant that it should exhibit his clemency to 
the people. But there was yet trouble in his way. The 
son of Cadwallader was a right royal prince by nature 
as well as by birth ; and he was heir to the throne 
also ; and but for the edict of outlawry which held him in 
exile, he would claim the crown in perference to Oswy’s 
son, Sigbert, whom the people despise. 

“ Lady, do you understand the proposition ? Oswy 
knows full well that he cannot live much longer, and 
he would leave his son upon the throne and secure him 
there ; but how shall he do it with any assurance of 


The SeM^cJi and What Came of It. 99 


success while on Anwick Isle there is a prince of true 
and noble heart who is the legal heir T 

“ I see ! I see cried Norna, clasping her hands 
upon her bosom. O ! Oswald, the wicked man would 
put Edwin out of his way forever ! Is it not so ?’* 
Oswald gazed a moment into the maiden’s eager, fear- 
wrought face, and then pressed his hand upon his brow. 
Finally he looked up and said ; 

I have one hope. So great a crime may be even too 
much for Oswy to take upon his soul in the late evening 
of his life. He may think to remove our prince far from 
us, where we cannot find him until Sigbert is firmly 
seated upon his throne, and where, perhaps, we may 
never find him.” 

O ! if Edwin lives,” cried Norna, starting from her 
seat and resting her hand upon Oswald’s shoulder — ‘‘ if 
he be alive upon the earth we will find him !” 

We will make every endeavor, dear Norna.” 

God grant us the blessing of success 1” 

And thus praying, the maiden bent her head upon the 
stout man’s bosom, and found relief in tears which had 
long been struggling for escape. 



CHAPTER IX. 

THE DEATH-PLANK ! 

‘‘ Easy, now ! It may be that the man isn't dead ; and 
if so be as he is alive, why, we won’t bang and bump him 
more than need be. Didn’t you notice a quiver of the 
lip, Karl?” 

“ Aye, Rufus ; I thought there was something of the 
kind. And, as you say, we won’t bump him more than 
there’s any need of. So here you have him. Look 
out !” 

“ All right ! Hoist away ! Ah ! There it is again. 
By the light that fell athwart his face I saw his lips move 
and the lids of his eyes tremble. Bless me, Karl, I can’t 
say I like it.” 

“Eh ?” 

“ Don’t you understand ?” 

“ Ah — ^yes — I see. Well, well, — it’s none of our busi- 
ness. It’s Tancred’s bargain — ^not ours. Have a care, 
now. Up he goes !” 

There was a swaying, rising sensation — a creaking and 
jarring — up, up, up, — swaying to and fro all the while, — 
then a stop, and a confused sound of rattling blocks and 
discordant voices, — then a sense of being lowered a short 
distance, and of resting upon a hard, ungrateful surface. 


The Death-Plank. 


lOI 


A moment of struggling thought, and then Edwin 
opened his eyes and gazed upward— gazed upward into 
the dark vault, where clouds were hanging in fleecy 
masses, with the bright stars gleaming from the mystic 
space beyond. But that was not all. Between himself 
and the clouds he saw spars, and ropes, and blocks, and 
fluttering sails. He turned his head, and saw the bul- 
warks of a ship ; but the dim outline of the rail was 
broken by the dusky forms of human beings, one of 
whom bent over him and cast the lashings from his hips 
and shoulders. 

Where am I ?” he asked, when he had discovered 
that beings after his own image were near at hand. 

‘‘ You are safe and sound, gentle sir,’' answered a rough 
voice — rough in its quality, but pitched to a tone of seem- 
ing kindness and pity. 

Do you think you can stand upon your feet ?” 

Edwin did not know ; but he could try. So they 
lifted him up, and when they took their hands from 
him, he staggered against the rail. This was not all 
from weakness, however ; for the motion of the vessel 
gave his body an impetus that way. Still he was faint 
and dizzy, and it required the support of two men to 
conduct him to the quarter-deck, and thence, down a 
steep, narrow ladder, into a cabin, which was lighted by 
a large hanging lamp. The cabin was small ; but open- 
ing from it were several comfortable bunk-rooms, into 
one of which our hero was led ; and never was the soft- 
est bed of down more grateful to him than was that 
box -like bunk, with its pallet of straw and moss ; for 
the effort of moving had given him pain ; and his head 
reeled until his brain was swimming, and his stomach 


102 


The Royal Outlaw. 


sick. He had thought of many questions ; but as his 
head touched the pillow — a pillow, far softer than the 
pallet — an impulse of nature which he could not resist 
closed his eyes, and held him bound to rest and recuper- 
ation. He realized that there were men moving over 
his head ; that a loud voice gave orders ; and that ropes 
were being pulled through creaking blocks, and that 
the sails were being spread to the breeze. By and by 
the bark bent evenly to the influence of the wind, and 
and as her motion became regular in its gentle undula- 
tions the prince’s straying, struggling thoughts cen- 
tered upon his present position. He knew that he had 
been dragged by wicked force from Anwick, and that 
he was now on board a vessel. That this vessel was 
Danish appeared from two things : Those had been 
Danes whom he had heard converse in the boat ; and 
then he had heard spoken the name of one whom he 
knew to be a Danish chieftain of great renown : Tan- 
CRED ! One of the boldest pirates that spread terror 
among the islanders of the Northern Sea. Why had he 
been placed in Tancred’s keeping ? But he gained no 
answer to the question. His senses were too weary for 
connected thought, and with the name of the dread 
chieftain upon his lips he sank into a deep lethargic 
slumber. 

By and by two men came down from the deck, and 
one of them looked in upon the occupant of the bunk. 

‘‘ Good ! He sleeps as soundly as man can sleep.” 

The speaker was a tall, dark-faced man, of powerful 
frame, and of commanding presence ; and it was plain 
to be seen, not only from the studied richness of his 
garb, but also from his authorative tone and bearing, 
that he was the chieftain. And such in fact he was — 


The Death-Pla7tk, 


103 


Tancred of Nordstrand — one of those roving pirate 
kings who had so long carried terror and consternation 
in their wake. Tancred was past fifty ; but his head 
bore not a touch of the frost of time ; nor had age made 
any marks upon his brow. His life had been an active 
and healthy one, and he was now just in his prime. 
There was a stern, uncompromising expression upon the 
compressed lips and the compact brow ; and those who 
knew him best knew that in the path of his fixed pur- 
pose his conscience stopped at nothing ; and yet they 
knew that he could be a true friend and a faithful ally. 
V/hile he was quick to resent an injury, he was equally 
quick to reciprocate a friendly deed ; and the man or 
woman who once gained his deepest love and esteem 
could not be forgotten. He loved but little ; but love 
did not die out in his bosom while its object was worthy. 

Did you say the youngster was asleep ?” asked Tan- 
cred’s companion, who was none other than he whom 
we have heard called Karl in the boat — a man of his 
master’s own bulk of frame, and not far from the same 
age. 

Yes, Karl, he sleeps like a weary child : so suppose 
we now sit down and open the king’s sealed packet. — 
Mind you, man, — I take sealed orders from no one. 
These are simply items of instruction which the king 
would not trust to speech. ” 

“ Zounds ! Why should the old rascal be so backward 
and uncertain about the business T' cried Karl in wrath- 
ful mood. ‘‘ He has had the work in hand long enough, 
and has been bound to accomplish it. Then why this 
foolery at the end ?” 

He is a coward, my Karl” replied the chieftain, with 
a snap of his finger. “ He is a coward and a craven. 


104 


The Royal Outlaw, 


But what care we ? He holds his hand upon British 
gold ; and British gold we want ; and so long as the 
work in hand is between such as he, I wash my hands 
of all stain with the yellow, shining bars and circlets. 
But let us see what we are to do.’' 

Karl produced a parchment roll from the breast of 
his shirt, which he handed to his master. It was secured 
by a stout cord, and the cord, where it was knotted, 
was plastered with a large disk of wax, upon which was 
the royal seal of Oswy. Tancred cut the cord with his 
dagger, and having unrolled the parchment, he pro- 
ceeded to read what was written therein. When he 
had done, he sent forth a long, low whistle, at the same 
time tapping upon the table with the missive. 

‘‘Well, my master — and what are the directions ?” 

“ What should you guess, my Karl ?” 

“ I guess we are to make a most summary disposal of 
the person who stands so directly in the way of the 
kingship of Prince Sigbert." 

“ Aye ; you are right there. And now give a guess 
at the manner in which this most kingly piece of busi- 
ness is to be done.” 

“ My guessing is staggered there, Tancred.” 

“ Then listen, and I will read to you Oswy’s own 
words. By my heart’s life, but he is most precise and 
methodical.” 

The chieftain opened the roll again, and read the sen- 
tence to which he had referred, as follows : 

“‘And Tancred, having in hand this large sum in 
gold, shall, under his knightly oath, as he did most 
strongly bind himself, sail his ship to a point as near to 
the centre of the North Sea as he can conveniently 
judge, and shall there cause the said prisoner, called 


The Death-Plank, 


105 


Edwin of Anwick, his (the prisoner’s) arms and legs 
being firmly bound by strong cords, to be thrown into 
the water : and Tancred will see that no floating thing, 
by which said prisoner can possibly help himself to 
float upon the surface of the sea, is left near him. All 
this will be observed by my servant who accompanies 
the prince, and reported to me ; and upon his report is 
to depend the payment of the remainder of the money.’ ” 

So read Tancred, as nearly as the quaint language of 
that olden time can be reproduced by our Anglo-Saxon 
of to-day, and when he had concluded, he looked upon 
Karl. At first there was a smile upon his face ; but it 
was quickly succeeded by an expression of deep con- 
tempt and indignation, which, in turn, gave place to a 
look of calm disdain. 

What think you, Karl T 

‘‘ It is about as I had expected, my master ; and if the 
Northumbrian chieftain had kept his overseeing spy at 
home, I should have been satisfied.” 

I’faith ! You have hit the target of my own thoughts, 
my Karl. But still, what matters it ? The sending of 
his servant to bring him word if we perform the con- 
tract, is only to us a proof of his own perfidy ; for we 
are all apt to place that same restraint upon others 
which we might ourselves need under like circum- 
stances.” 

“ Of course there is to be no hesitation T* queried 
Karl. 

Hesitation in what’.?” demanded Tancred quickly. 

In carrying out the instructions you have just 
read.” 

‘‘ By the beard of Thor ! No !” exclaimed the chief- 
ain, smiting his hand upon the table. I owe too much 


io6 


The Royal Outlaw. 


of enmity to the Briton ; and, moreover, I am well and 
royally paid. I owe a duty to my followers, and when 
such an opportunity occurs for making money, I must 
not let it slip me. Bah ! It is our business, Karl. 
Would you spare him ?” 

“ Not if I had my reason, good master.” 

“ Then Prince Edwin’s doom is fixed. By the middle 
of the forenoon — or, at least, by noon — of the morrow, 
we shall be as near to the centre of the sea as there is 
need of ; and the work shall be off our hands before our 
wine is opened for dinner.” 

Edwin of An wick was aroused from his deep, pro- 
tracted slumber by the sound of voices, and the clang 
of pottery in the cabin, and from the savory fumes 
which found admittance to his state-room through the 
cracks and crevices, he judged that the crew or a por- 
tion thereof, were engaged over one of their daily 
meals ; but whether breakfast or dinner he could not 
determine. In a very short time, however, the calls of 
appetite determined him to ascertain for himself. It 
was not so much hunger that distressed him as thirst. 
There was much pain in his head ; his limbs were sore, 
and a feverish heat pervaded his whole system. Aris- 
ing, and pulling the long curls away from his eyes and 
over his shoulders, and smoothing his garments as best he 
could, he opened the door and passed out into the cabin. 
There were eight men at the table, in the centre of 
which stood a massive earthen bowl, containing some 
sort of stewed meat, the savor of which plainly indicated 
that the ship was blest with a good cook. 

“Ah, Sir Edwin, we greet thee with a pleasant morn- 
ing,” said he who sat at the head of the board, and whose 


The Death-Plarik. 


107 


garb, as well as his appearance and position, pointed 
him out as the chieftain. 

It was with painful effort that our hero spoke in reply. 
He was there, a prisoner ; these were his captors ; and 
he knew not the cause of his arrest, nor the disposition 
that was to be made- of him, though his suspicions were 
keenly alive in both directions. But while he was free 
he would speak freely, being only careful not to take 
useless liberty. So he said, with a low bow to him who 
had addressed him : 

I can only hope, sir, that a pleasant morning bodes 
good to all of us.** 

“ That is not worth hoping for,** cried the Dane, 
“ when only a sunken plank rests between us and the 
grave of ocean. But as men often cherish worthless 
things, you may cherish the hope if you will.** 

Edwin felt his heart sink within him, for there was 
something significant in the tone and manner in which 
these words had been spoken. Tancred — for he it was 
who sat at the head of the table — observed the shadow 
upon the youth’s face, and divining its cause, he said : 

‘‘ But hope will never fill an empty stomach. Take a 
seat at our board, good sir, and make yourself free. 
Here is a hodge-podge of venison, rabbit, and pheasant, 
seasoned to a state of savor that would do credit to the 
cook of a king. Then we have bread of fresh barley, 
hot from the oven ; a loin of beef, cold from yesterday ; 
and as much mead as your shirt will hold.’* 

“ If you could let me have a cup of water, sir, it 
would meet my present want,’* replied our hero, taking 
the vacant seat nearest him. 

Better good wine, Sir Edwin,** 


io8 


The Royal Outlaw, 


“ No. Water first, to quench my raging thirst. Let 
the wine come afterwards.'' 

The water was procured, and when Edwin had drank, 
he took a survey of his companions. All wore the garbs 
of seamen save one, and he was surely habited after the 
fashion of those who had come from York to attend his 
father’s funeral. What did this mean t Why was this 
single member of Oswy’s court by his side ? The cir- 
cumstance only strengthened the suspicions already 
entertained. When he had eaten all that he required 
and had entirely satisfied his thirst, he arose and moved 
towards the ladder. 

“ Not yet,'' interposed Tancred, laying a hand upon 
his shoulder and drawing him back, by-and-by you 
shall go up." 

Without a word, the youth retired to his state-room, 
and presently the door was shut upon him and for two 
or three hours he was left there to his own reflections. 
A more melancholy companionship the prince had 
never endured than he found in those same reflections. 
They were dark and drear, leading only to thoughts of 
the night which he felt sure was closing in about him. 

At length, two rough, powerful men came to him 
bearing stout cords in their hands. He asked them 
numerous questions, but not a word did they speak in 
reply. They had come to bind his legs and his arms, 
and they did it — ^he deeming it worse than useles to 
offer opposition. Then they lifted him from his feet, 
and bore him out into the cabin, where they set him 
down, and where he found the Danish chieftain. 

Edwin of Anwick," spoke the latter, slowly and 
sternly, and with something of solemnity, ‘‘ my words 


The Death-Plank 


109 


shall be few, and your season of suspense shall be brief. 
If you are as keen of perception as your looks seem to 
indicate, you must ere this have divined the purpose 
for which you have been brought hither to the centre 
of the North Sea. As you know full well, I am at war 
with Britons everywhere, and they are all my enemies ; 
yet, when one Briton would use me against another, if 
he will but pay me enough, I am at his service. Listen 
to me : 

I have brought yon hither, and have promised 
that I will cast you into the sea, bound hand and foot, 
so that your death may be sure and speedy. And that 
thing I am about to do ! — Ha ! hold him up. Let him 
not go down upon his knees." 

This latter speech to the attendants, and then to the 
prisoner he added : 

“ If you knew Tancred, you would not waste your 
breath in begging for mercy, for it is not his to give. I 
have purposely put off this announcement to the last 
minute, so that we might both be spared a prolonged 
scene of suffering. I know it is hard to die — to die in 
such a manner ; and harder still for one just entering 
upon the stage of manhood ; but I cannot help it — 
Come ; bear him to the deck." . 

The two men lifted Edwin again — this time carrying 
him up the ladder to the deck ; where they set him 
down near the rail. The sun was at its meridian height, 
the sky cloudless, and the surface of the water broken 
into short, crisp waves by a fresh and invigorating 
breeze. On all sides, as far as the eye could reach, was 
to be seen only the dark bosom of the sea, rising and 
falling in long, low-riding swells, seeming to keep time 


I lO 


The Royal Outlaw. 


to the mournful murmur of the wind as it broke against 
the sails and rigging of the ship, and giving a motion to 
the floating mass that called up in Edwin’s mind the 
quaint thought of being rocked to the sleep of death as, 
ill the early morning of life, he had been rocked in the 
cradle of his infancy. 

But there was no time for poetry of thought. One 
more look to see if the broad sea bore for him anything 
that might give him support. But there was nothing. 
And if there had been, what could it have availed him 
with his hands and his feet cruelly lashed as they were. 

Nothing ! nothing ! Once cast into the sea — and 
death must come very speedily, for the victim could 
make not the slightest struggle for life. He turned and 
looked upon the tall chieftan. 

‘‘ Tancred, in the name of that mercy which, some day, 
you may ask at the hands of another, I humbly pray to 
you — to you whom I have never wronged — to save me 
from this cruel fate.” 

The chieftan slowly shook his head, and, without 
deigning a word in reply, motioned for his men to bear 
the prisoner to the gangway. 

Edwin looked before him as he was being borne 
onward ; and across the rail of the ship, at the place 
where the crew passed in and out, he saw a plank laid, 
with the inner end resting upon the deck. 

To the plank !” said Tancred. “ Lay him on care- 
fully.” 

And those words, freighted with the solemn knell of 
death, so thundered in their awful import upon the 
senses of the agonized prince, that he closed his eyes as 
one in a swoon ; and when they lowered him upon the 
plank, he made no sign nor motion of praying for relief. 



CHAPTER X. 

HOW THE king’s WORK WAS DONE ! 

‘‘ By the beard of Thor !” exclaimed Karl, as he stood 
by the side of the doomed exile, I think we consign to 
the grave of waters the fairest prince Northumbria ever 
owned.” 

Aye,” responded Tancred, with a look of cool 
indifference ; and all the better it is for us. If we are 
to kill off their royal heirs, I hope to have their best 
ones ; for when a fool takes the crown, we shall but 
miss our privilege if we do not lay him under tribute. 
But enough. The youngster seems to have lost his 
senses, and we will be merciful enough to consign him 
to his fate before he regains the sense for further suffer- 
ing. Be sure that he is in the centre of the plank, so 
that he may go clear of the ship’s side.” 

Karl looked, and saw that the victim’s shoulders were 
inclined a little upon one side, and as he bent over and 
gently moved the drooping head, a glittering object at 
the throat attracted his attention. 

“ Ha!” he has a golden chain about his neck. It is a 
pity to cast gold into the sea.” 

I may be some charm,” said the chieftain — “some- 
thing to him sacred. If so, ’twere cruel to rob him of 
it.” 


II2 


The Royal Outlaw. 


“We can look and see/* 

^ “ Yes, Karl ; we may ascertain what it is.’* 

Thus speaking, Tancred himself stepped forward to 
assist in the work. As gently as possible they opened 
the shirt, and then drew forth the chain ; and as they 
did so, the youth suddenly gasped and struggled as 
though he would raise his hands to save the precious 
token. But neither the chieftain nor his lieutenant 
regarded the movement of the bound Briton. They had 
drawn out the chain, and upon the end they found a 
miniature, painted upon ivory and set in gold and prec- 
ious stones. It was a sweet young face that looked forth 
from the ivory disk — the face of a female in the first 
bloom of womanhood, calm, hopeful and happy in its 
radiant beauty. Tancred grasped it, and as his gaze 
was bent eagerly upon it, an exclamation of wonder 
broke from his lips. 

The doomed man opened his eyes and looked up ; and 
when he felt the pressure upon his neck, and saw what 
the chieftain held in his hands, he uttered a quick cry 
of pain. 

“ In God’s name, good sir, spare me that ! Rob me 
of life, if you must, but tear not the face of my 
mother from my bosom ! Put it back ! O, do not take 
it from me ! If you covet the gold, the chain you may 
have ; but take not the picture !’* 

“ Your mother !** repeated Tancred, looking from the 
picture to the prince. 

“ Yes ; that is my mother’s portrait.” 

“ Now, by the gods ! I should swear that this was the 
face of the Princess Edilberga !” 

“ Aye,” returned Edwin, with a strength of utterance 
born of the hope that strangely and suddenly started to 


How the Kings Work was Done, 1 1 3 


life within him. Edilberga, the daughter of Wulfold, 
was my mother.** 

“ And who was this Wulfold .?’* demanded Tancred, 
still holding the picture, and gazing alternately from 
the painted face to the face that looked up from the 
death-plank. 

He was a Danish sea-king whom my father’s uncle 
took prisoner and held as a hostage.** 

'' And your father was Cadwallader ?** 

Yes, sir. He saw the daughter of Wulfold, and 
loved her ; and she loved him ; and because he married 
her he was outlawed and exiled ; and because that I was 
the child of that union, I, too, have suffered all the 
wrongs and indignities which a tyrant’s hate and fear 
could dictate.” 

By the blood of Woden !*‘ interposed Karl, ‘‘ the 
faces are alike.” 

“ Aye,” responded Tancred ; and now we see how 
so fair a prince came to be reared in Britain. By the 
life of me ! but we’ll make a change in this work. The 
hand that harms a hair upon the head of Edilberga’s 
son makes its owner an enemy of mine. Arise, my 
noble cousin, and know that Tancred is your friend. 
My father and Wulfold’s father were brothers ; and 
many a time and oft hath your mother, in her girlhood 
years, been held within my arms.” 

While speaking thus, the chieftain had drawn his 
dagger and cut the cords that bound the prisoner ; and 
as he concluded, he stooped and lifted the youth to his 
feet. 

Aye,” he added, gazing upon the prince’s handsome 
features, now that the rich blood once more gave them 
color, I not only see my sweet young cousin in your 


The Royal Outlaw. 


1 14 


face ; but I can remember how the ro 3 ^al Wulford 
looked in his younger days. But tell me, Edwin, what 
of plotting have you done against the peace and safety 
of the Northumbrian monarch T 

“ As I live,’* replied our hero, solemnly, ‘‘ I have done 
nothing. Aye — more than that : thus far in my young 
life, I have never even entertained a thought of plotting 
against Oswy.” 

“ What — ho 1 Where is that British churl ? Bring 
him hither.’* 

In answer to this command from their master, two 
of the seamen led forward the man who had come to see 
that the Dane fulfilled his contract. 

‘‘How now demanded Tancred, surveying the 
trembling wretch from head to foot. “ You and your 
lying master have both deceived me.” 

“ No, no, noble Dane,” cried the Northumbrian, 
quaking with fear — for there was something terrible in 
the look of the chieftain, — “ I have spoken no false- 
hood.” 

“ Out upon thee, for a lying knave. Did’st not thou 
tell me that this youth was dangerous to your royal 
master’s safety ?” 

“ I may have spoken that much, sir ; for so I thought 
him to be. These are troublous times ; and as Oswy 
totters towards the grave, desiring to leave the secptre 
in the hands of his son, there is danger that disaffected 
men may sieze upon the person of the exiled prince, to 
place him on the throne. So it is, sir ; and only so 
much would I, at any time, have led you to believe.” 

“ Answer me this, sirrah : Dids’t thou not know 
that Edwin of Anwick was son of the Princess Edil- 
berga ?” 


I 

■ How the Kings Work was Done, 115 


The man hesitated ; but finally, with an effort, he 
answered : 

“ I knew it, sir ; but I did not bear it in mind at the 
time. It was not among the things held in remem- 
brance at any time when you and I have spoken of the 
prince."' 

“ Master Ethelred," spoke the chieftain, his eye flash- 
ing with a deeper fire, and his lips curling more tightly, 
as he thus called the man by name, answer me another 
question. Do you think your royal master would have 
dared to ask any Danish chieftain living to slay a child 
of Wulford's daughter ? Answer me !" 

Indeed, sir, I cannot say. Still, I think—'* 

“ You think Oswy would not have dared to tell me 
who his victim's mother was, eh ?” 

“ Perhaps so." 

“ Perhaps ! By my life, but thou wert glib enough 
with that lying tongue of thine while thy falsehood sat 
safely on mine ignorance ! Y e gods ! to think that but 
for the simple accident of the straying in of a tiny ray 
of sunlight, upon a link of golden chain, thus leading to 
the revealment of Edilberga's face, I should have cast 
into the sea her own flesh and blood ? Aye — and you 
knew it all the while ? Edwin " 

The youth looked up, and put forth his hand ; 
but Tancred did not take it, then. He had other 
thoughts upon his mind. 

“ Hold a moment. By the Sacred Book ! but thou 
shalt be judge against this man. Speak but the word, 
and he shall wear those bonds which but now I cut 
from thy limbs ; and into the sea his foul body shall be 
cast ! Speak !" 


The Royal Outlaw. 


1 16 


Ethelred sank quickly upon his knees before the 
youth, and clasped his hands. 

O, good prince,’' he cried, in terror-stricken accents, 
spare me ! Spare me ! I did but obey the orders of 
my king. I never meant to harm thee — never ! And I 
swear by the holy — ” 

Hold !” interposed the prince, with an indignant 
wave of the hand. “ Add not another oath to such a bare- 
faced falsehood. Could you come hither to watch my 
death, and not mean me harm ? Would the tyrant Oswy 
have selected you for his base and bloody work had he 
not known his man ? But you have nothing to fear at 
my hands. I cannot make the first act of my new life 
a death-knell to another. For my own sake I spare you. 
But beware how you cross my path again. Henceforth 
I am not to be a tame and submissive exile. The king 
himself hath broken the faith, and now he must have a 
care.” 

‘‘ So your life is yours for the present,” said Tancred. 
^‘Now, get thee up and be gone.” Then turning to 
Edwin, he continued : 

Noble boy, now give me thy hand. By my life, but 
this is to me a joy. I am not sorry that I offered to do 
the monarch’s work since it hath brought thee to my 
knowledge. There is a Providence in it.” 

Edwin took the chieftain’s outstretched hand, and 
together they retired to the after part of the deck^ 
where the crew were soon assembled. 

‘‘ My men,” said Tancred, addressing his followers, 
you have your share of interest in this matter and I 
would not deprive you of Oswy’s promised gold without 
your full and free consent. So tell me : Would you do 


How the Kings Work was Done, 1 1 7 


harm to Edilberga’s son for all the gold the dastard 
king can command 

The response was quick and unanimous. 

Long live Edwin of An wick !'* shouted Karl. 

And the cry was taken up and repeated from every 
tongue till the heavens echoed with the sound. 

Then the Danes pressed forward, and as one after 
another took the youthful prince by the hand, he knew 
that he had in them firm and true friends. 

After this Tancred led the prince down into the 
cabin, where refreshments were ordered ; and where 
with Karl to bear them company, they discussed the 
subject of their future course. 

“ Good Tancred,'" said our hero, when he had 
expressed his gratitude and his love as best he could, 

I would like to return to Anwick as soon as may be ; 
for I left those there who will be very anxious till they 
know that I am safe." 

Have a care, Edwin," returned Tancred, seriously. 
‘‘ You must remember that Oswy is your enemy, and 
that, by your own decision, this tool of his is to have his 
liberty. Ethelred will quickly acquaint his master with 
what has transpired, and you can judge for yourself how 
long it will be before the king seeks your life again." 

“ Good Tancred, I fear him not. Now that I am fully 
warned, I can defend myself against any force he will 
dare to send against me. My castle is strong, and I 
have at least four-score stout and willing retainers who 
will fight for me. Not yet will Oswy dare to make 
open war against me. His course has been so foul and 
wicked that he will not dare to subject his conduct to 
public inspection. What he does he will seek to do 


ii8 


The Royal Outlaw, 


secretly ; and he cannot thus bring force enough against 
Anwick to overcome its stout defenders/’ 

But,” suggested Karl, “ will your men dare to 
oppose the royal force ?’” 

With Oswald to lead them, they would stand 
unflinchingly before the very gates of Death,” replied 
Edwin, proudly. ‘‘But I fear no open attack. The 
king dare not do it. Oswald has assured me that the 
tyrant would not dare to present my case to the people 
even as it was before this outrage had been added to 
the sum of the wrongs. No, no, good Tancred ; I 
would return to Anwick at once. I may be the' gainer 
thereby in a way we have not thought of. Off a, the 
stout earl of Durham, will shortly be there — he may be 
there even now — and he must know this thing. He was 
my father’s friend, and I think he will not forsake me. 
He returns soon to his home in the North, and he may 
use the story of this outrage to my advantage. At all 
events, I would not miss seeing him for worlds.” 

“ Does the Earl travel alone ?” 

“ He will reach Anwick alone ; but from thence he 
takes another member of his household. Have you not 
heard of the incident of Offa’s being landed upon our 
isle ?” 

Both Tancred and Karl replied in the negative, 
whereupon Edwin commenced and told to them the whole 
story of the storm, and the wreck, and the saving of the 
earl and his daughter. Never had story-teller two 
more interested or attentive listeners, and when the tale 
was completed Tancred caught the hero by the hand 
and was warm and zealous in his praise. 

“ By the blood of the martyrs !” he cried, “ it need 


How the Kings Work was Done, 


119 


not an Oswald to lead the men of Anwick to battle. If 
they will not follow thee, then they will follow no 
one.” 

‘‘ I think they would follow me, sir — every one ; — 
for they have loved me from my youth, and I have 
sought to retain their love.” 

But this Lady of Durham, Sir Prince ? Is she fair 
looking ?” 

‘‘ She is more than fair, Tancred. She is transcen- 
dency beautiful.” 

“ And her age ?” 

“ I think she is nineteen.” 

The Danish chieftain shook his head and smiled ; and 
in a playful, though kind and pleasant tone he said : 

“ Enough. We will steer for Anwick as once. Your 
reasons are too weighty for opposition. We will land 
you where your heart is.” 

Ht Ht H: Ht Ht 

While the Dane was making a sweep about the cen- 
tral point of the North Sea, for the purpose of pointing 
his head once more towards the coast of Britain, Oswy, 
King of Northumbria, was upon his couch, sick nigh 
unto death. Physicians had been snmmoned from far 
and near, and all the medications that science could 
suggest, and skill apply, had been tried in vain. He did 
not rally, but sank lower and lower ; growing weaker 
and weaker ; aware of the presence of the Dark Spirit, 
but trying to hide his face from it. 

On this self-same day, at noon, there was a young 
man alone with the sick king — a youth of two-and- 
twenty, or thereabouts ; dressed in gaudy trappings, 
and bearing upon his coarse and blunted features the 


120 


The Royal Outlaw. 


marks of dissipation and debauchery in broadest, deep- 
est lines. He was the king’s son, and only child. 

“ Sigbert,” said the weak old man, raising his hand 
to his brow with an effort, and lifting back the thin 
grey hair that had strayed over into his eyes, ^‘have you 
heard from Ethelred yet V 

‘‘No, my father.” 

“ I wish he would come.” 

“ But is it time ? I think he will not be here these 
two or three days yet, at best.” 

And so the old king asked, every hour, for Ethelred. 
At night he lay awake, wondering if Ethelred would 
come ; and in the morning his first question to every 
new comer was of Ethelred. The day passed, and 
another night came, but no Ethelred. Another morn- 
ing dawned, finding the king weaker and more weary, 
but not weary of life. No, with all his power of will he 
tried to shut out the grim presence that brooded over 
his couch. 

The hours sped on, and when this day had almost 
gone, Ethelred came. He came with faltering step and 
clouded brow ; and when the king asked him how fared 
he in his mission, he made no reply, but looked from 
sire to son, and then back upon the sire.” 

“ Speak, sirrah ! My son will soon be king, and he 
has a right to hear.” 

And then Ethelred told what had occurred on board 
the Danish ship — told all save that he owed his life to 
the prince who was to have been sacrificed. He forgot 
that. 

The monarch heard the story, and then started up in 
his bed. With furious gesture he grasped his hand 
towards his messenger, but failed to reach him. 


How the Kings Work was Done, 


12 I 


“ Fool ! traitor he exclaimed, foaming in his rage. 

Why did you not smite him where he stood ? What 
was your poor life worth compared with that event ? 
Why did you not fire the ship — sink it — anything to 
destroy that pest and trouble to the realm T 

The furious monarch still beat the air with his bony 
hand, and his frothing lips moved on in terrible mock- 
ery of their own impotency ; for speech had failed him, 
and only his wild pantomime told how eager for ven- 
geance he was. At length he sank back exhausted ; 
and when his eyes were closed Ethelred addressed the 
son : 

“ Most noble prince, the king, your royal father, lays 
too much upon me. Before Heaven, I did all I could.*’ 
blame thee not, Ethelred. My father is beside 
himself, and knows not what he says. Get thee gone 
ere he recovers. He must not set thee again.** 

The wretch was glad enough to escape so easily, and 
without further remark he hastened from the apart- 
ment. 

When Oswy opened his eyes again, his first impulse 
was to inquire for Ethelred ; but before Sigbert could 
reply, he seemed to remember what had occurred. 

“ I did not dream,** he cried, Ethelred has been 
here ?** 

“ Yes, my father.** 

There was a brief struggle — a spasm — and then the 
king became more calm, as though with the passing out 
of life the necessities of the hour impressed him more 
deeply. 

“ Sigbert, you will be king when I am gone ; but you 
will not have the power which I have had. You will 
not hold the Britwalda*s sceptre. You must protect 


122 


The Royal Outlaiv, 


your own crown and sustain your own throne. Beware 
of Edwin of An wick ! You are not safe while he lives. 
The law holds him to his island castle. If he leaves it 
let his life pay the penalty at once ! If you would be 
safe, seek some means to destroy that man !” 

And those were the last words that fell from Oswy’s 
lips. He lived far into the night ; but he spoke no 
more. Once he started wildly up, as though some fright- 
ful vision had disturbed him, and the name of Cadwal- 
lader was half pronounced ; but the breath thus 
employed was his last of earth ! 




CHAPTER XL 

STIRRING NEWS AT ANWICK. 

Offa, Earl of Durham, arrived at Anwick castle late 
at night ; and not until old Penda had gained a view of 
his face through a side wicket, would he open the main 
wicket to let him in. But the earl was not surprised ; 
nor was he surprised by the notes of desolation which 
greeed him within. He met Oswald in the hall ; and 
there he met his daughter ; for she had heard his voice, 
and had hastened to greet him. Only one thing thus 
far had seemed to present itself unexpectedly. Norna 
assured him that she was very well, and that she had 
not been sick ; and yet she was very pale, and her 
every look and tone was tinged with a sadness which 
even his presence had failed to remove. He did not 
question her then, however, being willing to believe 
that a spirit of loneliness had brooded over her in that 
out-of-the-way place where the companionship to which 
she had so long been accustomed was cut entirely off. 

If the daughter was troubled so was the father. As 
they stood together in the small ante-room, whither 
Offa had gone to partake of refreshment, and where 
Norna had gone to wait upon him, he gazed upon her 


124 


The Royal Outlaw. 


with an uneasy look, and something like a sigh escaped 
his lips as he turned away. The maiden noticed it, and 
she would have liked to know its cause ; but she dared 
not ask a question. There was a Secret upon her con- 
science, and while she guarded that she could not ven- 
ture far with questions. The brave, true-hearted girl 
had no thought of concealing from her father anything 
which might properly interest him ; but she was not 
quite prepared for the ordeal through which she must 
pass when she came to speak with him upon that one 
theme, before which all others, in the early morning of 
womanhood, sink into insignificance. 

After Norna had gone to her chamber, Offa and 
Oswald walked together in the lower hall. 

Now, good Oswald,** cried the earl eagerly, “ tell me 
what has happened. I have heard of Edwin*s abduction, 
or of his disappearance ; but I have heard none of the 
particulars, further than that they have been incident- 
ally dropped since I came this evening.** 

So once more poor Oswald was forced to tell the story ; 
but he did it cheerfully, for he spoke to one who had a 
right to know. Offa heard it through, and then walked 
away to the rear wall and back again. 

‘‘ That Oswy hath done this thing,** he said, “ there is 
no more doubt in my mind than there is of the existence 
of such a thing as crime.*’ 

“You have just come from York,** returned Oswald^ 
laying his hand nervously upon the earl’s arm “ and you 
should have noticed the sight there ; can you form any 
conception of what they have done with our beloved 
prince ? Do you think Oswy would take his life. 
Would he dare do such a thing ?** 

“ Indeed, Oswald, I cannot guess. I can only hope 


Stirring News at Anwick, 125 


that Edwin has been removed for the sole purpose of 
keeping him out of the way until Sigbert is firmly seated 
upon the throne/' 

‘‘ Then Oswy does not think of living a great while ?” 

“ No. I have not told you of the king's condition. He 
is not only upon his death-bed, but the physicians look 
upon every hour as liable to be his last on earth. In 
short, he is dying, and my aim is to get out of his way 
— to get beyond his reach — as speedily as possible. 
Were it not for this I would remain with you longer." 

“ But why should you fear him, Offa 't What harm 
could he do to you ? 

You know the law of our land, good Oswald, whereby 
the king holds a right in the families of the wealthier 
landed proprietors of the realm. I have the good or the 
evil fortune — call it which you will — to own a broader 
territory than any other noblemen in Northumbria ; and 
I also command more retainers than any other, aye, 
more than any two or three. This morning Oswy 
broached the subject, and I found that both he and his 
son had been making their arrangements with a view 
to my direct and speedy acquiescence in their propos- 
ition. Sigbert, according to that plan, is to take the 
Lady Norna for his wife. She will bring more support 
to the crown than any other maiden in Britain, and he 
fancies that he has only to command in order to be 
obeyed.” 

“ But,” cried Oswald, ‘‘ you would not consign your 
sweet child to the keeping of such as Sigbert.” 

‘‘ Not if I can avoid it, be assured. And for this very 
reason would I hasten beyond his reach.” 

“ By the powers of Heaven, good Offa, this must not 
be !” exclaimed Oswald impetuously. 


126 


The Royal Outlaw. 


“You forget,” replied the earl, “that our laws cannot 
be broken with impunity. The very compact upon 
which our kingdom is based gives to our monarch the 
choice of a wife from among the daughters of his earls. 
We who have accepted place and power in the realm, 
must bow to the laws we have ourselves helped to make. 
You know how Cadwallader violated the law; and we 
have the result before us.” 

“ It is as you say,” confessed the lieutenant, with down- 
cast look ; “ and you are right in seeking to get beyond 
the reach of the dying king.” 

“ Aye,” added Offa. “ Suppose he should conceive the 
idea of seeing the twain married before he died ? He 
knows Norna is at An wick, and if the thought should 
suggest itself or if his son should suggest it to him, he 
would send for her at once ; and were she here, refusal 
to comply would be dangerous.” 

“ You are right, Offa ; and the quicker you are on your 
way to Durham the better. I did not think an hour since 
that I should find myself so soon urging you away from 
An wick — and especially at a time when my heart is fairly 
aching for companionship. But these are dubious times 
for us of the island, and we know not what impulse to 
action an hour may bring forth.” 

“ Thank you, good Oswald. I will rest to-night, and 
on the morrow start for the North ; and when our troubles 
shall have found an end we may meet again.” 

“You will have plenty of time for rest,” said the 
lieutenant. “ Of course, no courier would be likely to 
arrive here from York before noon, and if you take 
passage by water, at any time before the middle of the 
forenoon, you will be in ample season.” 

Oswald spoke thus as they ascended the stairway, and 


Stirring News at AnwicL 


12J 


when he had conducted his noble guest to the chamber 
set apart for his use, he sought his own apartment, 
where he shut himself in, and gave way to the great 
grief that had come upon him — a grief which he 
sought in a measure to hide from others, but which 
would burst forth when he was alone. 

On the following morning, an hour or so after the 
breakfast, Norna came to Oswald, who was walking in 
the court and asked him if he would not try and urge 
her father to remain at Anwick. 

“ O, my soul she cried, “ I cannot go until I know 
of Edwin. Perhaps a few words from you, good 
Oswald might induce him to change his mind.*' 

‘‘ Dear lady,” replied the lieutenant, ‘M spoke with 
your father on this very subject last night, and the 
result of our conference was this : He convinced me 
that he had better go.” 

‘‘ How so, Oswald ? I thought you sympathized 
vrith me.” 

‘‘ You shall judge of that anon, dear lady. In the 
first place, do you know why your father is in such 
haste to return to Durham T* 

No. He has not told me.” 

Then listen while I tell you. By one of the funda- 
mental laws of our kingdom — a law framed for the pur- 
pose of always giving the crown the privilege of dividing 
interests with the house next in power to the king — the 
king can select for his wife the daughter of any one of 
his earls, and the right is a sacred one. Now, my dear 
Norna, it so happens that Durham is the broadest 
estate in Northumbria ; and Oswy has demanded of 
your father your hand for his son — or, he has strongly 
intimated that he shall do so. The old wretch is dying, 


128 


The Royal Outlaw. 


and your father seeks to escape. Ah ! here comes the 
earl himself. My lord, I was just explaining to our fair 
lady the cause of your desire to be away from Anwick.** 
“And does she comprehend queried Offa, regard- 
ing his daughter with a smile. 

“ O, yes. I comprehend it very well,*' cried the 
maiden. “ I would rather be put back upon that fear- 
ful spot, where Edwin found me on that night of storm 
and tempest, than be the wife of Oswy’s degraded 
son !” 

“ And I,** added the earl, with deep solemnity, “ would 
sooner see you consigned to that grave of waters, than 
see you led to the altar by that man's side !’* 

Norna returned her father a grateful look ; and yet 
there was something lacking to fill up the measure of 
assurance she needed to make bright with promise the 
coming time. He would reject one prince — a prince 
whom she feared and loathed — but would he smile upon 
the suit of that other prince whom she so fondly trusted 
and loved. She was thinking thus, when her father 
continued : 

“ I know it is saying a hard thing, thus to prefer a 
fearful death for my child to union with Sigbert ; but I 
know the degraded prince too well. I have been told 
such things of his life as I would not dare to repeat. 
Still he possesses certain qualities which will help him 
toward success^ He is reckless and daring, and over 
the rabble he might exercise much control. But — ’* 
Offa ceased speaking, because at that moment he 
heard an exclamation from the old porter at the gate ; 
and when he saw that some one had arrived upon the 
outside his lip quivered, and he took his daughter by the 
hand, and drew her towards him. 


Stirring News at Anwick. 


129 


“Just Heaven, grant that Oswy’s messengers have not 
intercepted me !” he ejaculated. 

“ It cannot be,” said Oswald. “ They could not have 
reached Anwick so soon from York. It must be some 
wayfarer who simply seeks shelter. Or, it may be — 
My God ! What is it rhy eyes behold V* 

Wide open, with a glad shout, old Penda had thrown 
the wicket, and from beyond came the form of one who 
brought joy and gladness in his bright and beaming 
presence. At first, toward the gate of the keep, the new 
comer bent his steps ; but when he saw the trio at the 
angle of the court, he turned that way. The first to 
move was Norna. She forgot that there was such a 
thing in the world as a secret, and, giving token only of 
the great love that possessed her whole being, she quickly 
advanced from her father's side — stood a moment like 
one trembling upon the threshold of Paradise, wonder- 
ing if the celestial gate will be opened — and then she 
sank upon the bosom of Edwin of Anwick, and was 
clasped there with a strength and fervor that might 
have set at rest for ever all question touching the return 
of her love. 

“ Oh, Edwin ! Edwin ! God give me strength and 
gratitude for this !” 

“ Sweet Norna,” he answered, holding her there, and 
bending his head low as he spoke. “ Of all the hopes 
that are saved to me with the new life this is the most 
holy and precious ! Hold me in your heart, Norna, and 
give me an abiding-place there forever !” 

The earl gazed upon the scene before him, and then 
turned an inqiiiring glance towards Oswald ; but before 
the latter could speak, Norna had broken from the 


130 


The Royal Outlaw, 


embrace of her lover, and now sought the bosom of her 
parent. 

“ Oh, father ! father ! you know it all now ! You will 
not be angry. You will not forbid me — Oh, you will 
not And she pillowed her head against his heart, and 
burst into tears. A moment so, and then, in eager haste 
she added : 

Never — never a word before, my father ! This is the 
first and only confession between us, Edwin hath never 
trespassed.” 

The cloud which had partially gathered upon Offa’s 
brow was swept away ; and as Edwin turned from the 
embrace of his old tutor, the earl received him with 
open arms and jubilant exclamation ; and when our 
hero saw that the impulsive revealment of the maiden 
had not chilled his greeting, he was happy beyond meas- 
ure. 

Away to the hall where half an hour was spent in 
greeting the happy servants and retainers, and then 
Oswald led the way to the chief sitting apartment, where 
Edwin told the story of his adventures, from the time 
of the coming of the ruffians to his chamber to his 
landing that morning upon the shore. He left nothing 
out that could be of possible interest ; and, during the 
recital, Offa never once thought of being in haste to 
leave Anwick. 

“ We arrived at Garwold Head yesterday,” he went 
on, after having told of sailing back to the English coast, 

whence Ethelred hastened away at once towards York, 
but I waited until to-day in order that I might have 
company, as I felt not safe to travel alone. Tancred 
and Karl accompanied me to within sight of the castle 
gate, being determined to see me safe thus far ; but I 


Sth'ring News at Anwick. 13 1 


could not persuade upon them to come further. Tan- 
cred promised that some time he would visit me, if we 
both lived, but not now. When I found that all urging 
was vain, I bade them adieu, and turned with buoyant 
step to meet those who, I knew, must be anxious to 
know of my whereabouts. 

A silence of some seconds succeeded this recital, which 
was broken by Oswald, who addressed himself to the 
earl. 

“ My lord, what think you of that V* 

I shall carry it to Durham with me,” replied Offa, 
“ and there use it as my judgment shall dictate. By my 
life ! it is the most wonderful story I ever heard. It is 
one of those events that sometimes transpire in this life 
to lead us to put faith in a God ; for surely there must have 
been a power at work in Edwin's behalf above the mere 
possibilities of earth. Do you not think so, Oswald ?” 

Thanks be to the God of heaven, yes !” answered 
the lieutenant. My noble Edwin was not only the 
recipient of God's direct bounty, but must there not 
have been a purpose in the event beyond that ? What 
say you to the thought of a better and happier rule in 
Northumbria V* 

With all my heart, I say, ^ Amen !' '' was Offa's quick 
response. And to that end will I labor.'' 

And,” added Oswald, if you apply your labor with 
judgment, there must be much result from it.” 

We shall soon see,” said the earl. The safe arrival 
of our true prince will send me away with a light heart, 
and I shall feel that I have a sure foundation upon 
which to stand.” 

And^ with but little further remark^ and that of a 


132 


The Royal Outlaw. 


general character, he sent Norna to prepare herself for 
the journey. 

A little later, Edwin found opportunity to address the 
earl in private. 

My lord,'' he said, with a perturbation which plainly 
indicated what was coining, ^‘you have seen the meet- 
ing between your daughter and myself, and you can 
judge if our hearts are one in love and sympathy. I 
have never told her of my love ; I have never hinted 
by a breath that I looked forward with hope to a further 
union between us than the union of friendship and 
mutual esteem. And now, sir, with this burden of out- 
lawry upon me — an outcast and an exile from the land 
that gave my royal father birth — I would not dare to 
think of offering her my hand. I would sooner cut that 
hand from my arm than bring her to share my solitude 
and disgrace in this far-off place. But, my lord, I may 
at some time be free from this galling estate. If the 
time should come when I can stand proudly up and 
claim the rights of the station to which every just law, 
both human and divine, entitle me, may I not hope that 
then you will listen to my prayer V 

The earl reached forth and grasped the youth by the 
hand, and while the warm tears filled his eyes and 
trembled upon his drooping lashes, he replied : 

Sir Edwin, your course has been manly and noble ; 
and I am glad that you have refrained from drawiug 
promises from my child ; for she, poor thing, feeling 
only the great love which has so suddenly warmed and 
enriched her heart, would have refused you nothing 
which she might in honor have granted. But you may 
cherish the hope, my boy — ^hope in both directions — and 


Stirring News at Anwick. 


133 


when you stand entirely relieved from the curse of 
Oswy’s cruel edict, you may look to me for the hand of 
Norna. And I think, dear Edwin, that I thus give you 
conditional promise of a blessing such as few men are 
permitted to gain in a wife/' 

Before Heaven, my lord, you speak the truth," 
ejaculated Edwin, fervently, And you have made me 
the happiest of men. I bless you, sir ; and will try and 
prove worthy of the confidence you repose in me." 

When Norna next met her lover, she knew that all 
was right. Their words of parting were few, and ere 
the last word was spoken, our hero whispered that he 
would come to Durham if he could. 

Only have a care," said the earl. ‘‘ Beware how you 
give the king opportunity to assassinate you under 
cover of the law, which he can do if he finds you away 
from Anwick." 

Oh, have a care !" plead Norna, in eager tones. 

And Edwin promised that he would be cautious and 
circumspect. 

The earl had made all ready to depart, when a com- 
motion at the gate arrested his attention ; and when he 
heard old Penda announce a courier from York, he 
trembled with apprehension. His first thought was 
that the king had sent for him ; but he was mistaken. 

How now ?" demanded Oswald. 

For the new-comer was his sworn friend. 

‘‘ Good Oswald — and you, my lord — the king is dead ! 
Last evening, Ethelred returned from some important 
mission, and his report — so it is said — ^had a wondrous 
effect upon Oswy. The old man lived into the night, 
dying ere the sun of this day arose." 

Now," cried Offa, with beaming eye, I shall depart 


134 


The Royal Outlaw. 


in hopes higher than any I have held. Courage, Edwin ; 
and to you, Oswald, I once more say, ‘ Be wise and cau- 
tious.' " 




CHAPTER XII. 

A KING WITHOUT A CROWN. 

Of all the kings who ever ruled in Northumbria, Oswy 
had held the crown the longest ; and furthermore, no 
Britwalda else had held the imperial sceptre so many 
years. He had been a hard, cruel man ; but he had 
ruled with an iron hand, holding the people in subjec- 
tion, and the masses regarded him with awe and vener- 
ation. Nobody loved him, and nobody wept when he 
died ; and yet there was much true and deep regret in 
view of the event, for even the most ignorant of the 
people believed that the sceptre was to come into the 
hands of one who had not yet learned how to govern 
himself. Oswy, dead, was not alone a cause of mourn- 
ing ; but Sigbert, living, was sufficient to cast a deep 
gloom over the city. 

Sigbert saw all this, and he resolved to make an effort 
to overcome it. He wotild draw the minds of the people 
from their dark breedings, and give them stirring enter- 
tainment, until the current was changed, and then he 
would grasp the rod of rule with more freedom. 

So great preparations were made for the funeral, and 
for the space of five days there was feasting and enter- 


136 


The Royal Outlaw. 


tainment for all who chose to come, at the expense of 
the crown. Hugh butts of mead were opened in the 
great square, barrels of beer were set on tap by their 
side, while wine in pipes, and wine in tubs, was pro- 
vided for those who chose. On the fifth day, the body 
of the dead king was consigned to the tomb, and that 
night riot and debauchery at the royal palace ran high 
and rampant. 

Towards midnight, Sigbert, who had drank deeply, 
and who swayed to and fro with uncertain motion when 
he attempted to stand, discovered a stranger at the 
board, and he demanded to know who he was. 

The banquet-hall was long and narrow, a single table 
extending its whole length, and at the upper end was a 
raised platform for the master of the feast, upon which 
was also room for two or three honored guests upon 
either hand. On the present occasion there were more 
than a hundred guests at the table — some of them sit- 
ting and some standing, some eating and some drinking ; 
while some there were who had eaten and drank 
until their skins would hold no more. 

What ho, there V* shouted the prince, starting to his 
feet, and gazing down over the length of the table. 
‘‘ What manner of man is he who comes to our feast in 
such a garb ?” 

The guests looked, and at the extreme foot of the 
table, standing upright against the gray wall, was a 
stalwart form, with hair and beard of snowy whiteness ; 
a robe of sack cloth confined at the waist by a rope, 
within which were thrust a stout dagger and a wooden 
crucifix. Up and down the long table this strange 
presence gazed, seeming to count the rioters, and to 
estimate the character and standing of each. ^Whence he 


A King Without a Crown. 


137 


had come, no one, save himself, could tell ; and how he 
had gained admittance, was a mystery, unless the guards 
were drunk. 

“Who is that man.?’' the reeling prince demanded, 
closing one eye, and brushing his hand across the other, 
as though his vision were blurred. “Speak, thou 
unmannerly dog !” he shouted, in a louder key, “Who 
art thou T 

“ By the powers of darkness !” cried an old nobleman, 
who stood low down towards the end of the table. “ It 
is Magaff !” 

At the sound of that royal name more of the revellers 
gained their feet, and looked upon the white-haired 
man. 

“ Ye Gods !” exclaimed another, turning pale with 
terror ; “ it is the spirit of Magaff !” 

And others, who remembered Oswy’s elder brother, 
were full sure that the old monarch had come back to 
earth. 

“ Out upon thee for a set of lying dolts !” yelled 
Sigbert. “ Magaff hath rested in his grave well nigh 
upon two-score years. This is some ill-bred intruder 
who has come hither to fill his empty body with our 
cheer. Speak, sirrah, and expose thyself 

The figure slowly raised its hand, and, pointing to the 
prince, spoke thus : 

“ Men of Northumbria, an evil day hath come upon 
you, and an evil spirit broodeth over you. Arouse your- 
selves ere it be too late. Behold the man )’'ou would 
make king. His father’s body hath but now been con- 
signed to the tomb, and see where he is, and what he 
doeth. As he treateth the memory of his father, so shall 
the interests of a kingdom be in his hands. Beware !” 


The Royal Outlaw. 


1^.8 


Thus speaking, the dark form glided to the small 
door close upon his left hand, and there disappeared. 
With a furious oath Sigbert leaped down from the plat- 
form and rushed towards the point where he had last 
seen the strange presence, and a score or more of the 
revellers, now somewhat sobered, joined in the pursuit. 
Sigbert flourished his drawn sword in his hand, and 
only wished to set eyes upon the man that he might run 
him through. 

He went this way,'* said one of the party, who had 
stood near to that end of the table. “ He must be in one 
of these apartments." 

They hurried through the narrow way by which the 
intruder had departed, and found themselves in a small 
ante-room, where the guests had left their spears and 
heavier outer garments. Beyond this was anothei 
room, and beyond that a corridor which led to the main 
hall on one hand, and to a watch-tower on the other. 
They searched in every nook and corner, and sharply 
questioned every servant ; but not a trace of the 
stranger could they And. 

More than half of the party shook their heads and 
declared that it was the ghost of the old dead-and-gone 
king, Magaff. 

Silence !" commanded Sigbert, furiously. ‘‘ Prate 
no more of that !" 

But, my lord," urged an old earl, I knew Magafi: 
very well ; and, as I live, I saw him stand there against 
the wall to-night." 

Death and distraction, man !" retorted the prince, 
stamping his foot, what manner of folly hath seized thy 
weak and shattered mind ! Did you ever see such a 
thing before ?" 


139 


A Kinz Withotit a Crown. 

<3 


‘‘ No, my lord, never/' 

Then, be sure you have not seen it now/’ 

But,” said the earl, “ how can you account for the 
sudden and mysterious disappearance of the thing ?” 
Some lying sentinel was asleep,” replied Sigbert, 

and the man went out over his senseless body. By my 
faith, the thing as you would have it, is simply 
ridiculous.” 

“‘And what, think you, my lord prince, could have 
been the object of the man V* 

“ He was crazy ! He had no object. Or, if he had an 
object, it was simply to frighten a set of drunken dolts, 
which, I can swear, he hath accomplished most com- 
pletely. But still we must find him. He may be crazy 
enough to do mischief. 

High and low, far and wide, they searched for the 
strange presence that had come to break up the feast of 
the prince ; but not a trace was to be found. The ser- 
vants all swore that they had seen nothing ; and the 
sentinels were ready to swear that no uninvited guest 
passed their post towards the banquet hall. 

Of course the feast was broken up ; and more than 
one of the noble guests muttered words which would 
have added materially to Sigbert’s unrest could he have 
heard them ; words, significant of a desire to be freed 
from the influence of the prince who was to rule over 
them. 

As for Sigbert, himself, as the fumes of the liquor 
wore off he came to regard the event more seriously, 
and it troubled him more than he was willing to con- 
fess. He had much superstition in his composition ; 
and, though he did not believe that he had seen the 
ghost of his Uncle Magaff, still he fancied there might 


140 


The Royal Outlaw, 


be something of evil portent in the circumstance. The 
fact that the presence had so easily slipped away, seem- 
ing to have melted into thin air as it glided from the 
banquet-hall, was the chief point of difficulty in his way. 
At length, however, he promised himself that he would 
throw the harrowing feeling off ; and, seeking his couch 
his tired senses were soon lost in slumber. 

As the day drew near on which Sigbert was to be 
crowned as king, there were mutterings of rebellion in 
York. There were stout artizans who whispered of 
opposition to the coronation of one who had so disgraced 
his station ; and there were men of rank who secretly 
wished that a better man might be king. But what 
could they do ? Sigbert was ruler now — ruling by right 
of appointment from his father ; for Oswy had left the 
sceptre in his hands, making him ruler from the moment 
of his own dissolution ; so that the ceremony of coro- 
nation was to be only a seal set upon the transaction 
before the world. On the very morning succeeding 
Oswy's death, the son had gone to the council-chamber, 
and there assembled the ministers of the realm for con- 
sultation. They knew that Sigbert held the sceptre ; 
and not only that, but they had promised Oswy, ere he 
died, that they would be true to his son, as they had 
been to him ; so the youth had commenced his reign at 
once, wielding the sceptre but not wearing the crown. 
However, it was not long so to be. Augustine, the 
archbishop, had promised that he would crown the new 
monarch as soon as the eight and twenty days had 
passed, during which, according to the law of the land, 
the crown of the Britwalda had to be left upon the 
tomb of him who had died in the office. 

On the day succeeding the interruption of the feast at 


A King Without a Crown. 141 


the banquet-hall, Sigbert made further inquires ; but at 
length he gave the whole thing up as a senseless piece 
of mysticism, and tried to forget it. To Ethelred, he 
said : 

‘‘I should sooner think the thing emanated from 
Anwick Isle than anywhere else, if I did not doubt there 
being any there with courage enough to execute such a 
mission. And this reminds me that I must look to this 
same Anwick Isle. As God reigns, Ethelred, I am not 
safe while the son of Cadwallader lives. Come ; you 
have observed the things about you, and have walked 
up and down the city with your eyes and ears open — 
and now I would have you tell me what you think. 
Speak plainly and fear not to offend me by the truth. 
I know that I have led a free and easy life, and that the 
over-righteous ones have turned up their eyes in holy 
horror while recounting my frolics ; but what care I for 
that? I would know how the masses feel — ^how feel 
those hard-handed peasants and swart-browed artisans 
who are to form the bone and sinew of rebellion, if such 
a thing should ever come." 

My lord,*' said Ethelred. 

My lord C echoed Sigbert, with more of pain than 
anger in his tones. 

Pardon, sire. So long have I addresssd you so, that 
my tongue leaps in advance of my thoughts. But you 
know that Ethelred is loyal." 

I think he is" replied the prince ; ‘‘ and if he 
remains so, he shall never regret it. But go on. You 
were about to answer the question I had put." 

“I was about to say, sire, that you are right in fearing 
the influence of Edwin of Anwick ; and if there is any 


142 


The Royal OtUlaw. 


possible way by which he can be removed you will be 
the gainer/' 

Ah, do the people speak his name T 

“ Not yet, sire. But I know that he is made of such 
stuff as would please them, and he must be kept out of 
their way. Should he once gain the public ear, and tell 
the story of his adventure on board the Danish ship, 
there is no telling what the result might be. You your- 
self can judge how deeply he might work upon their 
sympathy," 

Aye," answered Sigbert, bitterly, I see the danger. 
Oh, what a shame that the Dane did not fulfill his contract. 
That might have been the end of every obstacle to my 
complete success. I tell you, Ethelred, I do not feel at 
ease. I like not the manner in which the archbishop 
does his work. He might crown me at once, if he 
would." 

‘‘ No, no, Sigbert. You forget the law. From moon 
to moon must the Britwalda's crown rest upon the tomb 
of the dead monarch." 

‘‘ But what has the Britwalda's crown to do with the 
crown of Northumbria ? I am not to wear that crown, 
I am only to be king of Northumbria." 

I cannot explain it, sire. I suppose the archbishop 
has his own reason." 

My father was crowned within four days of the death 
of Magaff," said Sigbert. 

Aye," responded Ethelred ; ‘‘ but you must remem- 
ber two things. If you cannot remember them, I can : 
First, Magaff was not Britwalda ; and second, your 
father forced the archbishop to crown him. Laurentius 
was archbishop then, and he yielded to Oswy's stem 
demand. If you will be advised by me, you will not 


A King Without a Crown. 143 


seek to hasten the day of your coronation ; but you will 
seek to put off those things that stand in your way. If 
I might speak plainly — ” 

“ Now, good Ethelred, you come to the point. I 
would have you speak plainly. It is the truth I want.'' 

I fear you do not want advice." 

Yes, Ethelred — from you, at this time, I will take all 
you have to give. I must depend upon you, and you 
shall have the privilege of advising as much as you 
please. I can follow your counsel as suits me. Now 
proceed." 

Then, sire," went on the minister, with a clearer 
brow, “ I can point out those things that are in your 
way. First, you know full well that Edwin of Anwick 
must be removed to insure your complete safety ; but 
Edwin of Anwick would not be so dangerous if you 
addressed yourself with more promptness and decorum 
to the proper labors of your office. People know that 
your time is spent in carousel, and debauchery, when it 
should be employed for the good of the realm. Even 
the affair of the banquet hall hath gained circulation 
among the citizens, and it is openly talked upon the 
corners of the streets that we were all drunk together, 
and that the ghost of Magaff came and broke up the 
revel." 

By the gods ! do the curs prate of our royal affairs 
thus ?" cried the prince, in a rage. 

‘‘ Not only do they, sire ; but you cannot prevent it 
while you give them occasion. I have mentioned this 
for the purpose of placing you on your guard. If you 
will be more circumspect until after the coronation, 
and after the son of Cadwallader is disposed of, you 
might gain much. There will be time enough for 


144 


The Royal Outlaw, 


enjoyment after your throne and crown are more 
secure/* 

‘‘ Ethelred, I think you are my friend/* 

“ Sire/* interposed the minister, with blunt frankness, 
“ if you will but take the trouble to consider, you will 
see that I am bound to you by the strongest of earthly 
bonds. Either you or Edwin of Anwick, must rule in 
Northumbria. What think you would be my fate if he 
should come into power, whose life I sought to destroy 
— or at least, whose destruction I urged V 

“ You are right, Ethelred. You must be true to me ; 
and as such, I will trust you. Touching the matter of 
my conduct, I think I will have a little more care. If 
possible, I will put on the garb of a saint, and give the 
people opportunity to point me out to their children, 
saying, ‘ My child, be like Sigbert the Saint !* By the 
Holy Rood, good Ethelred, but the fancy pleaseth me. 
I* faith, 1*11 try it. And now, to the next point. Sig- 
bert hath thrown off his evil ways ; and now for this 
young prince of the Isles. My dear mentor, I have a 
thought. The Earl of Durham has been at Anwick 
Castle, and his fair daughter, the Lady Norna — whom, 
one of these days, I will have for my wife — has spent 
more than a week beneath that roof.** 

More than a month, sire, to my knowledge.** 

“ Then so much the more sure am I of my proposi- 
tion. Edwin saved the maiden*s life at the risk of his 
own, which is sufficient to insure her love for him. 
And as for his loving her, that were a sure statement. 
I think the earl has returned to Durham ?’* 

‘‘Yes, sire. He went on the day following your 
father's death.** 

“ Then we may set it down as a thing within the 


A King Without a Crown, 


145 


bounds of probability that Edwin will ere long be post- 
ing off to Durhara to see his love. I know something 
of what lovers of either sex will undergo under such 
circumstances. Death is a man of straw in the path of 
such a love as I believe that young fellow would feel. 
Those adventurous, reckless spirits are given to deep, 
strong passions ; and when we seek to reach them by 
that means, we need not fear disappointment.” 

Ethelred, who possessed considerable knowledge of 
human nature, smiled within himself at the bungling 
method of the prince's philosophy ; but he took no 
exceptions thereto, because on the main point Sigbert 
had been correct. 

Sire,” he said, you are right. That the young 
couple became strongly enamored of each other there 
can be no mistake : and I have no doubt that Edwin 
will, ere long, seek to visit the maiden in her northern 
home.” 

If he does that thing,” cried Sigbert, rising from 
his seat and taking a turn across the apartment, ‘‘ his 
fate is sealed. In that event the law gives his life to 
me. By Heaven ! that must be our first sphere of 
work. If we can secure our end in that manner, I 
would prefer to do so ; and if we fail in that — if he 
does not venture beyond the limits of his island — then we 
can contrive some method of compassing his destruc- 
tion at Anwick. It can be easily done in spite of all 
their precaution. A wandering minstrel ; a wayfaring 
monk ; a beggar on the verge of starvation ; something 
may be contrived to open their gate to a minister of 
mine ; and beyond that a tiny drop of poison, such as 
the poor monk might carry in a hollow crucifix, would 
finish the work. Or, in case of further need, a boat 


146 


The Royal Outlaw. 


may spring a leak off the island, and the inmates be 
forced to seek the hospitality of the house. Oh, there 
are a hundred ways in which the enemy of a king may 
be put out of the way."' 

Sigbert took his seat again ; and, after a pause, he 
continued : 

But, first, we will set a watch upon the movements 
of the young outlaw, to observe if he leaves his island. 
Will you superintend it ? Will you take the business in 
hand and be responsible for its for faithful perform- 
ance T 

‘‘Yes, sire. I will, if you give me authority and place 
men enough at my disposal, pledge my life that Edwin 
of Anwick shall not leave his island without your 
immediate knowledge.** 

“ Good !** exclaimed the prince, smiting his fist upon 
his thigh as he spoke. “I feel my grasp already 
tightening upon the life of the only man on earth I 
absolutely fear.*' 




CHAPTER XIII. 

THE OUTLAW ON A VENTURE. 

Oswald returned from York, and found all at An wick 
as he had left it. He had been to see how it was with 
the new ruler and with the people, and also to inform 
himself upon any other matters that might be of interest, 
chief among which was to learn, if possible, if any 
steps were likely to be taken by Sigbert against the 
Royal Outlaw. 

Dear Oswald,*' said Edwin, hanging upon the strong 
man's neck as he spoke, God alone truly knows the 
depth and the power of the love I bear you. It is when 
you are gone from me that I realize most fully how good 
you have been to me, and how much I owe you. I can 
hardly feel that I have ever known a father's love. Yet 
I know he loved me — that he loved me as well as he 
could love. But ere I had reached an age to under- 
stand the full value of the higher and more sacred 
social relations, my father's heart had been crushed by 
the weight of the great wrong which a foul tyrant had 
hurled upon him, and all the finer sensibilities of his 
nature had been seared and blunted. Shut up, as he 
was, away from all the opportunities and privileges of 
which his early life had given promise, his thoughts 


148 


The Royal Outlaw, 


seemed rather employed in lamenting the past than 
in finding comfort in the present. Add then the one 
great blessing of earth — the only blessing that ever 
drew tuneful praise from his lips — the possession of his 
lovely and devoted wife, even this was turned against 
him. Exiled and outlawed because he had taken to 
himself the prize, only a few short months was he per- 
mitted to bask in the costly sunshine, when the fell blow 
came that snatched her from him, leaving him bereft and 
desolate. I have sometimes thought from that hour of 
bereavement my father was never in his right mind 
again.” 

Edwin looked up into Oswald’s face with a silent 
appeal, to which the tutor replied : 

“ You may be right, my dear boy. I know that your 
father suffered, suffered much ; but he had one great 
source of joy of which you have not spoken. He was 
proud of his son ; so proud, that in his speech I have 
sometimes thought him beside himself.” 

I thank you, Oswald, for telling me that. I tried to 
please, my father ; and if I succeeded in imparting 
warmth and light to the hours of his gloomsome life, I 
am more than repaid for the effort. But — I should not 
use such a word. I made no effort to that end. If I 
did it, it was the result of natural desire.” 

You have been a good boy, Edwin ; and you are 
good now,” said Oswald, drawing the youth once more 
upon his bosom. He held him there, bound in his strong 
embrace ; and as he gazed down upon the fair and noble 
face, his eyes filled with tears. 

My precious boy,” he continued, his voice growing 
husky with emotion, as you have said to me, filling my 
heart with a strange and delicious ecstacy, so I can say 


The Outlaw on a Venture. 


149 


to you most truly : God alone knows the depth and the 
power of the great love I bear you. I bless you for the 
words, dear Edwin. And I shall treasure them up as 
rare jewels in that crown of life which is to be my 
reward on earth for whatever good I may have done.*' 
And thus speaking — thus leaning one upon the other 
— they walked away upon the parapet, whence they 
could gaze down upon the sea ; and there they remained 
until the stars had come out, and the night was well 
advanced. 

On the following day Oswald and Edwin brought out 
their armor, both offensive and defensive, and engaged 
in a bout with lance, ax and sword — a thing which they 
had not done since the funeral, — and those who were 
present to witness the exercise declared that Edwin had 
never handled his weapons better. 

It was a week or more after Oswald's return from 
York that one of the men came over from the hostelrie 
on the main land, and informed Oswald that three 
strangers had come from the Westward, and occupied a 
cot close down upon the shore. 

“ They seem to be men of leisure," said the groom, 
and though they go into the wood with their cross- 
bows, and affect to be very fond of hunting, yet I opine 
that their chief business is to watch An wick Isle and its 
inhabitants." 

On the next day Oswald went over and took a horse, 
upon which he rode down along the seashore ; and 
when night came, and he made ready to return to the 
island, he had not only discovered that the men of whom 
the groom had spoken were spies ; but he had also dis- 
covered that others had located themselves upon one of 
he smaller islands, whence they could sally forth upon 


The Royal Outlaw. 


150 


the water if occasion required. But all this gave him no 
uneasiness. 

“ I had expected it,” he said to Edwin, “ but am only 
surprised that they have not attempted to set spies upon 
our own Isle of Anwick. However, they may watch to 
their heart’s content, so long as they keep clear of the 
castle ; and if they work their way in here, they are 
more shrewd than I think them. Sigbert is very uneasy. 
He is not sure that the archbishop will ever place the 
crown upon his head. Ah, my boy, if he could gain a 
place at your bedside while you slept, he would give 
half his hopes of the future.” 

‘‘ I fear him not,” replied the youth. “ Somehow the 
feeling is strong within me that a Just God will hold 
me harmless from the wicked schemes of those who 
would link my life with danger to the peace and pros- 
perity of the relm. Dear Oswald, am I not vain to 
speak thus ?” 

No, no, Edwin ! It is as you have said. The same 
power that seeks your life would place a yoke upon the 
necks of the people, and bring disgrace upon the king- 
dom. Heaven will help you ; but forget not that God’s 
blessing is only added to those who labor most truly 
and zealously for themselves.” 

A few days after this Oswald met his pupil in the 
court one morning with a deep and painful cloud upon 
his .brow. In fact, it was plain to be seen that the youth 
was most unhappy, for his lip quivered when he 
returned the morning’s salutation, and his eyes were 
moist almost to weeping. 

Edwin, my boy, what is it ? What hath happened 
to throw such a weight upon your spirits ?” 

With an effort the prince replied ; 


The Outlaw on a Venture. 


151 


Dear Oswald, you are going to Durham ?” 

“Yes, Edwin, most pressing business calls me 
thither/’ 

“ And you would not ask me to bear you company, 
Oswald ?” 

There was something in the words so plaintively 
touching and so sad — something in the look of the fair 
young face so reproachful and so melancholy — that the 
strong man’s will was bent almost to yielding from the 
first. 

“ Edwin,” he cried, grasping his pupil’s hand, and 
bending upon him a look made all of kindness and deep 
concern, “ I had not dared to ask you. Think my boy, 
upon what your life depends. God knows I would like 
your companship ; it would give me joy beyond meas- 
ure ; but I had not dared to ask so much. Think of the 
spies that are set to watch your movements. We know 
there are spies close at hand ; but we do not know 
where else they are set. Sigbert’s highest hope is to 
wrest you away from An wick, in which event you know 
your life is forfeit. I shall not be gone long.” 

“ And while you are gone,” plead the youth, “ I shall 
be lonesome and unhappy. As I live, 1 believe there 
are as many dangers near me here, as there could be on 
the way to Durham. We can go by sea, good Oswald. 
We can set sail under cover of the night, and before the 
break of day be far beyond the ken of Sigbert’s spies. 
I can put on a disguise. Let me assume the garb of a 
fisherman, and sail your vessel. O, good, good Oswald 
don’t refuse me !” 

“Edwin, I would refuse you nothing that could add to 
your happiness ; but in this which you ask there is more 
danger than you think. You do not know how fearful the 


152 


The Royal Outlaw. 


crownless ruler of Northumbria is, nor how much he has 
already done towards encompassing your destruction. 

But Edwin could not be convinced. 

Think how my poor father pined and died because 
he dare not set foot beyond these narrow limits.*' 

Ah, Edwin, it is not that which moves you thus,” 
said Oswald, with a look of mild reproof, Were there 
not a fair face at Durham which you are anxious to see, 
you would not thus beset me.” 

‘‘ Indeed, Oswald, you are cruel to taunt me thus ! 
If I have not spoken of Noma, it was not because I 
sought to hide the incentive from you. Full well I 
knew that you could read my innermost heart ; and I 
was willing that you should.” 

So speaking, and struggling with all his power to 
keep his feelings within control, the youth bowed his 
head upon his hands and was in the act of turning away, 
when Oswald caught him to his bosom. 

Say no more, Edwin. God knows I never taunt you, 
never ! But you shall go. We will sail under cover of 
night, and trust in heaven for guidance. O you know 
not the mighty effort this has cost me ; but the die is 
cast, and if you go not now, it will be because you vol- 
untarily withdraw from tke undertaking.” 

O, thank you, good Oswald. I did not mean to 
accuse you of treating me harshly. No, no ; I could 
not do that ; but — but — ” 

“ Say no more, Edwin. It is passed. But, my lord, 
you are master of Anwick now. Do you forget that you 
have the right to command V 

‘^I know,” replied the prince, thoughtfully, ‘Hhatby 
the death of my father I am left in possession of the 
castle and its dependencies, and that the retainers now 


The Outlaw on a Venture. 


153 


owe their allegiance to me ; but not yet have you ceased 
to be my tutor. No Oswald, I cannot command you. 
My soul rebels at the thought. Rather let me be your 
pupil still, and lean upon you yet awhile longer for 
guidance and support.*' 

Oswald was grateful for this mark of his pupil’s con- 
fidence and esteem ; and he promised that he would 
remain true to the trust so long as he continued to 
accept it. 

In a deep, sheltered cave, at the northern extremity 
of the island, lay a small vessel, in which the fishermen 
of Anwick were wont to make their excursions when 
their business called them far from the land, and in 
which those who had the right, were in the habit of mak- 
ing excursions up and down the coast of Britain. With 
as little show of preparation as possible the vessel was 
made ready for the trip to Durham, and before dark the 
commander informed Oswald, that they could sail at 
any time. 

As soon as the day had gone, and the shades of night 
deepened over the sea, Edwin donned a fisher’s garb 
throughout, and with easy, careless grace accompanied 
the lieutenant on board the vessel. The seaman who 
were upon the deck, and who had known the prince for 
years, failed to recognize him in the garb he wore, and 
Oswald smiled as he heard them whispering among 
themselves, and inquiring, one of another, who the 
stranger could be ; and it was not until he had spoken 
with them that they penetrated his disguise. They 
were cautioned to keep their prince's presence away 
from Anwick a profound secret, and they gave promise 
to that effect with hearty cheer. Indeed, the youth had 
nothing to fear from any living thing that had enjoyed 


154 


The Royal Oictlaiv, 


a home within the limits of his control ; but on the con- 
trary, every man of them, and the dogs even, would 
have faced mortal danger in his defence. 

The night in the neighborhood of the islands was 
darker than usual, a thick fog having settled over the 
sea, and over the lower land, so that the movements of 
the vessel could not possibly have been seen from the 
shore of the main land, or from any of the other islands. 
Edwin remarked upon it as the sails were being spread 
to the gentle breeze, and expressed his gratitude for the 
circumstance. 

It is indeed fortunate,’' added Oswald ; ‘‘ and if we 
can land at Hartlepool as safely as we leave An wick, all 
may be well.” 

Surely,” said Edwin, with a show of surprise, “ you 
do not expect to encounter spies at Hartlepool ?” 

‘‘ I can only judge of the matter,” replied Oswald, 
“ by thinking what I should be likely to do were I in 
Sigbert’s place. Were Sigbert in your place, and I in 
his, I should certainly set a watch upon every avenue 
that led to the abode of the Lady Noma. It is known 
at York that the beautiful maiden rested beneath our 
roof, that Edwin of Anwick saved her life, and that she 
remained in the same domicile with him while her father 
made a visit to London. But we will not borrow 
trouble. Only you must retain your present disguise 
until we reach Durham Castle.” 

When the vessel had broken from the fog-bank that 
lay upon the shore, she found a fresher and more 
favorable breeze, and when the morning dawned, the 
towering hills of Whitby were to be seen astern. By 

the middle of the forenoon, the vessel was anchored in 

# 


The Outlaw on a Venture. 


155 


the beautiful harbor of Hartlepool, and the boat was 
soon ready for going to the shore, 

“This is my place,** said Oswald, as he stood in the 
gangway whence a fair view of the landing could be 
obtained. “ I will go on shore, and see the Lady of 
Hilda. She has charge of the Monastery which you see 
on yonder eminence, and is a true friend of the earl. If 
anything unusual has happened she will know it. I 
shall tell her the whole truth, and seek her council and 
aid. You will observe wdien I land, and you can judge 
how long it will take me to walk to the Monastery and 
do my errand. When I return I will come to the land- 
ing, and if I wish you to come on shore, I will stand 
quietly upon the landing, and make no sign of any 
kind. If I make a sign then you are to send the boat 
for me but, you are not to come in it. Can you 
remember ?’* 

“ Yes, Oswald. I shall not forget.** 

“ And,’* pursued the lieutenant, “ if I allow you to 
land, I shall walk away as you approach the shore, and 
you will follow me at a distance, seeking not to join me 
until I stop for that purpose.** 

The holy house of Hartlepool, built by Edwin the 
grandfather of our Prince Edwin’s father, was a hand- 
some structure for the times, having been constructed 
by a lodge of masons, who came over from France for 
that purpose. These accomplished craftsmen reared the 
house at Hartlepool ; and then they built one at Whitby, 
under the patronage of Edwin’s son, Penda. Our hero 
stood upon the deck and watched his tutor until he had 
landed and disappeared from view, after which he 
went below and made such arrangement in his garb as 
he deemed fitting to the occasion ; for he felt sure that 


The Royal Outlaw. 


156 


he should be called on shore. When he returned to the 
deck, he was met by one of the seamen, who bore in hand 
a stout staff, and who addressed him as follows : 

‘‘ Look ye, my lord, you are going among strangers, 
and, from the nature of the disguise you have assumed, 
you cannot carry your lance, javelin, or sword. Will 
you not feel lost without something more than the 
simple dagger which you must conceal beneath your 
frock T 

“ By the holy rood, good friend, you speak my own 
thoughts. I shall sadly miss my stout sword, and yet I 
must not carry it.’’ 

Here is something my lord, which I hold better 
than a common sword. It is a staff of iron- wood. You 
will find it heavy enough to break an arm, or crack a 
skull, and I’ll swear you cannot break it by any fair 
means. Try it, and see how it strikes your fancy.” 

Edwin took the stick, and very quickly resolved that 
it was just what he needed. Its weight, and the ease 
and grace with which it balanced in his grasp, gave him 
a pleasurable emotion, such as a man feels who has 
found a true and trusty friend in a season of great need ; 
for as he swept the stick to and fro, and swung it over 
his head, he felt that he was armed against a heavy 
force. He thanked his kind friend again, and then 
went to the gangway and watched for the coming of 
Oswald. Nor had he to watch a great while. By and 
by the lieutenant came down the landing where he. stood 
with his arms folded upon his breast. 

Ha !” cried the youth, in glad strains, that meaneth 
that I may come on shore. Let us have the boat at 
once.” 

The boat was quickly drawn up under the gangway. 


The Outlaw 07 i a Venture. 


157 


and three men got into it besides Edwin, so that they 
pulled four oars ; for he thought it best to appear as one 
of the crew in every possible way. When he reached 
the landing the youth discovered Oswald at some dis- 
tance, walking slowly away upon the same road he had 
taken when he went to the Monastery. With an easy 
step the prince followed on, seeking only to hold his 
guide in sight, until at length the latter stopped, and 
awaited for him to come up. 

“ Ah, my boy ! you have an iron-wood staff,’* was 
Oswald’s first remark ; and his look and tone indicated 
that he held it as a matter of moment, 

‘‘Yes,” replied Edwin, “One of the seamen, seeing 
me about to come on shore unarmed, and knowing that 
I would not have a sword, gave me this ; and I do 
assure you it is a grand weapon. Upon my soul ! I 
fell as I sway it to and fro, that no sword could break 
its ward, or resist its stroke ; and I know that the head 
which comes in the way of its full force will never be 
troubled more with pains in this life.” 

Oswald took the stick, and balanced it in his hand, and 
as he passed it back he said : 

“ I am glad you have it, Edwin ; for, if I mistake not, 
you may have use for it before the day is spent.” 

“ Ha ! Is there danger ? Are their spies even 
here ?” 

“ Be not alarmed, my boy — ” 

“ O,” interrupted the youth, with sudden earnestness,” 
it is not for myself that I have a thought ; but that I 
should have led you — ” 

“ Hush, Edwin. I’ll interrupt you as you interrupted 
me. We have taken the risk, and we will now abide by 


The Royal Outlaw. 


158 


the consequences. There is no blame. Danger there 
certainly is ; but they must be stout men, and armed in 
a better cause than Sigbert can give them, who thinks 
to overcome you and me.” 




CHAPTER XIV. 

WHAT OUR TRAVELERS FOUND IN DURHAM WOOD. 

The distance from Hartlepool to Durham Castle was 
full six leagues, which a good horse might make in less 
than two hours if urged to the top of his speed over the 
rough, uncertain roads of that period. But our travel- 
ers were in no great haste, as their aim would be 
answered if they gained the castle before night. 

Oswald led the way first to the Monastery, where our 
hero was introduced to the Lady of Hilda. He had 
heard of this woman as one of the merciful angels of the 
North — a woman whose heart was ever alive to the suf- 
ferings of her fellows, and whose hand was never closed 
when suffering humanity plead at her gate. And he 
found her to be all that he had anticipated, — a mild, 
kind-faced woman, yet firm and strong, and able to be 
stern and severe when wrong and iniquity sought to 
combat her. She received the youthful prince most 
graciously, and though she was glad to see him, and 
though her sympathy was all his own, yet she gravely 
shook her head when she spoke of his present mission, 
and plainly told him that he had done very wrong. 

“ You forget, my son,*’ she said, ‘‘that in you we have 
high hopes of future good to the realm. Your life is 


i6o 


The Royal Outlaw. 


not your own — not yours to risk in such a cause as now 
engages your time and energies. Should you fall a victim 
to the stern decree which makes your life forfeit if you 
are found away from An wick Isle, all Northumbria 
would have occasion to mourn. You know not how 
many friends you have in this northern section. When 
the hour shall come for decisive action, you will find, if 
you be alive, that in Durham the name of Cadwallader 
is held in reverence ; and Cadwallader's son may com- 
mand a host. Then beware how you trifle with the pos- 
sibilities of the hour.*' 

Edwin hung his head in shame, for he now realized 
what a foolish thing he had done ; and presently he 
turned to his faithful old tutor, and grasped his hand. 

Pardon ! pardon, Oswald he cried. “ I did not 
think of all this. If I were back upon Anwick Isle, I 
would never disobey you again. You told me — you told 
me, — and I would not listen. I acknowledge my error ; 
and I promise that I will not so err again.*' 

“ Enough, my son," said the Abbess, advancing, and 
laying her hand upon Edwin's head. For the wrong 
you have done you have made all the reparation in your 
power. So let the past be forgotten, saving its lessons, 
and let us look to the future with hope of better things 
than any we have yet known. Go on to Durham now, 
and have a care on the way ; and when you once more 
find yourself safe in Anwick Castle, remain there until 
you are called forth to a higher and nobler duty. Our 
good Oswald knows the rest. Trust to him, — circum- 
scribe your conduct by his wise counsel, — and you can- 
not materially err." 

Edwin thanked the good lady as best he could for her 
kindness, and after a few words of commonplace import 


JV/iai Our Travelers Found, 


t6i 


he and Oswald turned from the vestibule, and in the 
court they found their horses saddled and bridled, 
awaiting* their coming. For some time after leaving 
the Monastery our hero rode on with sad and downcast 
look, answering only in monosyllables, and offering no 
theme of conversation of his own accord. 

‘‘ Come, come,’' cried Oswald, after this had lasted 
until he got tired of it, ‘4et us be cheerful. You have 
nothing to lay to heart, my boy. If there has been 
wrong done, I am as much to blame as yourself.” 

No, no,” interposed Edwin. ^‘You cannot lay that 
flattering unction to my soul, because I know better.” 

Then,” said Oswald, with a smile, take the source 
of comfort that is yours, and make the most of it. If 
there has been a mistake, it was of the head, and not of 
the heart. If you have erred, it was in a cause that 
hath led men astray from every rank and station, from 
the time when Adam listened to the pleadings of Eve 
down to the time when Edwin of Anwick yearned to 
behold the fair Lady of Durham. So let it pass, and 
cheer up. As I live, I am not sorry it hath happened. 
Since leaving the Monastery, while your cold and 
cruel silence has been forcing me back upon myself 
for companionship, I have been thinking ; and I tell 
you truly, I am glad we are where we are. Strange 
as it may seem something whispers to me that thus 
are we to take the first step in the work that lies before 
us. I know we are likely to encounter danger ; but it 
may be that the result of such encounter will be to 
bring Edwin of Anwick before the people, as he could 
not be presented in any other way. By my faith, the 
thought gives me new life, and nerves my arm with new 
strength. How is it with yourself, my boy ? What 


i 62 


The Royal Outlaw. 


could you do with that quarter-staff if three or four 
stout villains should intercept us, and attempt to arrest 
our progress ?'’ 

“By heaven!*' cried Edwin, with kindling eye and 
flushing cheek, “ I should lay just a pair of them upon 
the greensward with such skulls as no leech of earth 
could over mend." 

And as he flourished his ironwood staff about the 
heads of two imaginary interlopers, his spirits revived, 
and very soon his tongue was as free as it had been 
when no thought but of enjoyment had come to occupy 
his mind. 

At the end of half an hour after leaving the 
Monastery they entered a forest which grew deeper and 
deeper as they advanced, though the road was plain 
enough, it being the only highway from Hartlepool to 
Durham, At the end of an hour Edwin, whose horse 
was the most active, and who chanced then to be in 
advance, observed what appeared to be an opening in 
the wood, as though another path came in at that point. 
And so it proved. 

“ It is the road from Teesmouth," explained Oswald : 
and he was urging forward his horse, when a sudden 
exclamation from his companion arrested his attention. 

“ Hold," uttered Edwin, reining back his beast, and 
speaking in a low tone, “ there are men concealed 
behind the wild wood." 

And, as the words dropped from his lips, three men 
leaped out into the path, not more than twenty yards 
ahead ; and, directly afterwards, three others came 
forth still nearer. The three who had first shown them- 
selves pressed forward and joined their companions, 
thus shutting up the way completely. While tho inter- 


What Otcr Travelers Fotmd, 


163 


lopers were thus arranging themselves, the neighing of 
a horse not far away, answered by a like cry from two 
or three others, told how they had gained their present 
post. If they held any belligerent intentions, they had 
chosen to leave their horses behind them and try their 
luck on foot. Oswald was the first to break the silence 
which followed the sudden meeeting. 

“ How now, gentlemen ? Why do you stand in our 
way r 

“ Because we have business with you*' replied the 
foremost of the strangers, whose face the lieutenant was 
sure he had seen in York. 

“ And what may be the nature of that business, pray?” 

The man advanced a few paces, followed closely by 
his companions, and cast a scrutinizing gaze upon the 
prince. 

“ Sir Oswald, we know you very well, and we also 
know your companion. In the name of the king, we 
arrest Edwin of Anwick for having set at naught the 
royal edict.” 

“ In the name of the king f' cried Oswald, contemptuosly. 
‘‘The king is dead.” 

“Aye,” replied the officer, “we know one king is 
dead, but another reigns in his place.” 

“ What king reigns in Oswy’s place ?” 

“ Sigbert reigns.” 

“ Hath Sigbert been crowned ?” 

“ Not yet, we admit ; but the crown is his, and will 
soon be placed upon his head.” 

“ And when that time comes, we will think of holding 
ourselves answerable to the king, but not until then. 
So stand out of our way, and let us pass.” 

The men of York gazed with amazement upon the 


164 


The Royal Outlaw. 


speaker of these words, seeming to wonder what he 
meant. 

‘‘ How now, Sir Oswald } You do not think we shall 
give over our mission at your bidding T* 

“ I know not what you will do,** returned the stout 
lieutenant sternly. I only know what we shall do in 
the event of your seeking to arrest our progress.** 

‘‘We care not for your progress. We only seek to 
hold your companion, whom we know to be an outlaw 
and who hath forfeited his life by leaving Anwick Isle. 
Ah, Sir Edwin, you should have had a care. The king 
hath too many trusty servants to admit of such infrac- 
tion of his laws with impunity.** 

At this point our hero turned to his tutor and spoke 
in a tone audible to his ears alone. 

“ How is it, Oswald ? Shall we stand our ground ?’* 

“ More than that,** replied Oswald. “ We must take 
theirs.*’ 

“ And fight them ?’* 

“ If you are prepared.** 

“ I am sure of three of them. And I remember your 
maxim, too, ‘ The attacking party, in an open field, hath 
the advantage.* ** 

“ How is it ?** demanded the spokesman of the king’s 
party. “ Will Edwin of Anwick yield himself to us, or 
must me take him by force ? Think not of escape, for 
our horses are at hand and are fresh, too ; and if you 
turn back towards the coast, you will but fall into the 
hands of others, even allowing that we overtook you 
not. Time passes, and we are in haste. What’s your 
answer ?” 

The men had left their spears with their horses, and 
only wore their swords. They were men of ordinary 


What Our Travelers Found. 


165 


muscle — ^just such as might be taken from an army at 
a venture ; and it was evident from the manner in which 
they wore their swords and from their clumsy move- 
ments that they knew nothing of the science of hand-to 
hand encounter. Edwin saw it at a glance, and he 
whispered to his tutor : 

“ They are clumsy louts, and I dare venture my life 
that they cannot stand before us as many minutes as 
they are men. My quarter-staff is fully equal to a 
sword for such opponents.” 

“ Right, my boy. Stand by to follow me. But mind 
your guard. Look to yourself, if you love me.” 

“ Come — what is your decision T asked the officer, 
seeming to think that the twain had been debating 
whether they should surrender or not. 

Wait a moment,” said Oswald. 

And, as he spoke, he slipped from his saddle and stood 
before his horse ; a movement which Ed\/in immediately 
followed. 

And then the lieutenant added, drawing his sword 
with the words : 

“ He who stops me upon the king's highway had best 
beware. Stand back, or your blood be upon your own 
hands.” 

The king’s men were, for the moment, so stricken 
with amazement that they knew not what to do ; but 
their leader drew his sword, and the rest did likewise. 

“ That means war !” shouted Oswald. 

And, with the cry ringing upon the air, he leaped 
upon the foremost man, striking him down with a single 
blow. 

Two men, with swords held at their hips for thrusting, 
rushed upon Edwin, evidently thinking that, with only 


The Royal Outlaw. 


1 66 


his staff for a weapon, he would quickly yield ; and with 
this idea they extended their left hands for the purpose 
of grasping and holding him. But, alas, how sadly were 
they disappointed. One of them found his sword sud- 
denly knocked from his grasp, and in an instant more 
the second felt a stunning crash upon the head, which 
put an end at once to further cogitation. As this man 
went down with an irremediable crack in his skull, 
Edwin turned upon him who was looking for his sword, 
and settled him with a blow still more forcible. A 
third man, who had been hesitating which way to turn, 
now attacked the youth, and as he came alone, Edwin 
took a fancy to play with him ; the result of which was, 
that he found him as he had expected, entirely ignorant 
of the first principles of the sword exercise. He beat 
the uncertain blade about in the air until he thought he 
had toyed enough, and then, giving the lout a rap upon 
the knuckles that caused him to howl with pain, he 
delivered a blow upon the head that ended his pain 
forever. 

‘‘ Well,** said Oswald, dropping the point of his sword 
upon the ground, and looking around upon the prostrate 
forms of the king*s messengers, I fancy we have 
cleared the way at this point.** 

‘‘ It would seem so,** returned Edwin. 

“ And I wonder how many of the fellows are dead. I 
am very sure that I have sent two of them to their long 
homes. I like not this spilling of blood ; but it must be. 
the fortune of those who vuluntarily enter the list. I 
dragged them not in.** 

They set their lives against mine,** added Edwin ; 
“ and, moreover, they forced me to the combat. If two 


What Our Travelers Found, 


167 


of the skulls I have rapped be not broken beyond mend- 
ing, then I am no judge of my own work/' 

Upon examination it was found that four of the men 
were wholly dead, while two showed signs of life. The 
first whom Oswald had stricken down was bleeding 
profusely from two wounds — one upon the side of the 
head, which included a shaving away of a portion of the 
ear, and one upon the shoulder. They had both been 
given by one stroke ; the blow upon the head having 
stunned him for a time. The first, also, whom Edwin 
had stricken down, gave token of reviving; and as it 
was evident that he would soon recover his senses, his 
thick skull not having been broken, it was determined 
to leave him to care for his bleeding companion, about 
whose shoulder Oswald had kindly bound a sash which 
he had taken from the fellow's loins. 

I think we are not needed here," said the lieutenant. 
^‘Your man will very soon be able to nurse my man, 
and together they may make each other very comfortable. 
Your men with thumped skulls, where no shell of bone 
is broken though, generally come out all right when rea- 
son returns." 

Without troubling themselves further the two travel- 
lers remounted their horses, and started on their way ; 
and in one hour from that time they were riding into 
the broad green court of Durham Castle. 

How now, Edwin ? cried Oswald, observing that the 
youth's face had grown long and sedate, if not sad and 
gloomy. 

‘‘ Good Oswald," the prince exclaimed, ‘‘ again the 
oppression comes over me, and I feel that all is wrong. 
I ought not to have left Anwick Isle ; and with all my 
heart I wish I were back there safe and sound. What 


i68 


The Royal Outlaw, 


business have I here ? What will the earl think when 
he sees me ?” 

‘‘ Hush, my boy,*' replied the lieutenant, soothingly. 

It is too late to think of that now." 

“ And yet," pursued the youth, bitterly, ‘‘ I cannot 
drive the thought from me. As I find myself here, 
where I had almost promised not to come until I was a 
free man, I realize the folly of the step I have taken." 

“ But you told Off a you should visit him." 

I know I did ; but he will not look for me so soon." 

Before Oswald could make further reply, the earl 
made his appearance in the court and extended to the 
lieutenant a warm and gracious welcome, embracing 
him as he would have embraced a brother. 

And whom have we here ?" Off a continued, turning 
to the man in a seaman's garb, who had just dismounted. 

What — the prince ?" 

Aye," answered Oswald. “ I saw fit to let him bear 
me company, and we deemed a disguise not out of place." 

The earl extended a gracious welcome to the youth- 
ful adventurer ; but it lacked the warmth and cordial- 
ity which had characterised his greeting to Oswald. 
Edwin saw it, and felt it ; and his countenance fell. 
Offa marked the change and with sudden warmth and 
earnestness he grasped the prince’s hand and drew him 
to his side. 

Never put on such a face, good Edwin. I' faith, I 
did not know you in that garb ; and if my greeting 
lacked heart, it was because I wondered at the change 
in your appearance. Come — we'll find cheer and com- 
fort within." 

This speech served to raise the youth's spirits some- 
what, though he was shrewd enough to see that his host 


What Our Travelers Found, 


169 


had spoken with an effort. However, he had too much 
sense to wear a cloud after his friend had sought to dis- 
pel it, so he put on as cheerful a look as he could com- 
mand. 

After refi^eshments had been served Oswald related 
to the host the incidents of their journey thither, 
remarking, in conclusion, that he had no doubt there 
were spies even then about Durham Castle. 

I know there are,*' said Offa : although till now I 
could not imagine why strangers should be hanging 
around my premises.** 

He looked towards the prince, and saw that he was in 
deep trouble, as was evident from the gloomsome 
shadows that had settled upon his face. He had 
thought of speaking further upon the subject — of ex- 
pressing his regret that these spies should have found 
anything to reward them for their pains, — ^but he would 
not add to the distress which already gave the youth so 
much unrest. He could easily follow Edwin's thoughts, 
because he knew how he should have felt had he been 
in Edwin’s place. He would have seen these hired 
spies on every hand — seen them making trouble for all 
who dared to befriend him, — seen them ready to draw 
their swords upon all who would protect him, — so that, 
as a result, his very presence must be a source of anxiety 
and torment to his best friends. Offa knew that 
thoughts of this kind were occupying the young out- 
law's mind, and he seized the first opportunity to break 
the spell. It came presently ; and it was potent to the 
end when it came : 

** Ah ! Good Edwin, if I mistake not, there is one in 
the court who would be pleased to see you. We can 
spare you.** 


The Royal Outlaw, 


1 70 


The youth arose, and went out as he had been 
directed ; and beneath the deep shadow of one of the 
highest towers, he beheld Norna. She saw him, and 
with quick step bounded forth to meet him. Ah ! there 
was no coldness in this greeting ! Heart to heart — love 
strong and enduring — ^joy ruled the event. 

And in a little time Edwin had told all his sorrows ; 
and with sweet words of love Norna had led him up 
from the gloom of regret into the brighter field of 
thankfulness and peace. 




CHAPTER XV. 

IN THE TRAP AT LAST ! 

When evening came, and lamps had been lighted in 
the great hall, Edwin, coming down from the chamber 
which had been set apart for his use, found his tutor 
and the earl engaged in an earnest conversation. He 
waited long enough to assure himself that their words 
were not for his ears, and then he went out into the court. 
He had no thought of danger here, for the gates were 
all closed and locked, and the porter was at his post. 
The stars were out in full force, and a young moon, like 
a slender clipping from a disk of silver sheen, hung 
daintily over the western horizon. 

Edwin walked slowly and musingly along until he 
was interrupted by the sound of footsteps close at hand ; 
and upon looking up he found that he had come close upon 
the wall of the outer court, and that a man was approach- 
ing him from the direction of the main gate. The inner 
gate — that leading from the court of the keep to the 
outer ballium — had been left open, and he had passed 
through without observing it. 

A pleasant evening, and an inviting one,’' said the 
stranger, stopping as he came near enough to distinguish 
our hero’s features. 

“ Of a truth, it is,” responded Edwin. 


172 


The Royal Outlaw, 


If I mistake not, I have the honor of addressing Sir 
Edwin of Anwick/' 

“ Ha 

‘‘ O, start not, good sir. I know what you have to 
fear ; but you may put away such feelings while within 
these walls. Still, it is well that you should not venture 
too far alone.'' 

And then the man added, with a light laugh : 

Our good earl, knowing your strange confidence in 
your own immunity from peril, saw fit to send me after 
you. Go, Rufus,' he said to me, ‘ and look after the 
prince. He may run into danger without knowing it.’ 
So I came forth to find you." 

‘‘ And your name is Rufus ?" 

“ Yes. I have been a member of the earl's household 
these many years ; and my father was a dependent here 
before I was born." 

It is a strong castle, and a well directed one said 
Edwin ; “ and I have no doubt you have seen some 
severe battles here." 

“ I have seen battles, and I have done my share of 
fighting," returned Rufus. ^^Ah, the earl is a stout 
warrior." 

And," suggested our hero, he hath a goodly num- 
ber of retainers — of men who will bear arms in his 
behalf, if he do but summon them ?" 

‘^Aye, my lord, that he hath. Saving the king, no 
man in Northumbria can call so many followers to bat- 
tle as can Offa. When Egfrid, king of Mercia, with an 
army of two thousand men, marched into Durham, and 
threatened this castle, Offa called twelve hundred war- 
riors to his support without going beyond the confines 
of his own domain ; and while Egfrid encamped his 


In the Trap at Last, 


173 


force over against our stronghold, waiting for reinforce- 
ments from Chester, a thousand more men came in 
from my Lady's domain of Appleby and Carlisle, and 
the Mercian king made all possible haste to get away. 
That was the time when Offa’s old porter — ^he’s dead 
now, God rest his soul ! — sallied forth single-handed and 
alone, and captured half a dozen spies who were seeking 
to gain admittance by foul means." 

“ I have heard of the coming of the Mercian king," 
returned Edwin ; and I have been told that there 
were mighty deeds of prowess done by Offa's men on 
that occasion." 

And you have been told truly, my lord. If you will 
come with me I will show you where the Mercians suc- 
ceeded in battering down a section of our wall, and 
where a mere handfull of Offa's men defended the 
breach for three long hours against as many of the 
enemy as could gather for the attack. There has been 
a postern built there since." 

This man talked so smoothly, and seemed so honest in 
his desire to look to our hero's safety, that the latter 
held not a thought of harm, but followed on towards 
the rear of the castle as he would have followed one of 
his own people. The way lay through the outer court, 
along by the wall, and not until they had reached the 
extreme rear angle of the fortifications did the guide 
stop. As he approached the postern, which Edwin had 
detected by observing the flanking turret against the 
sky, Rufus whistled several times in quick succession, 
and as his companion was wondering why he did so, he 
turned and said : 

We may as well be a little cautious here ; for if old 


^74 


The Royal Outlaw, 


Robert has left his dog on guard, the brute may object 
to our approach/' 

The guide whistled again, and then bent his ear and 
listened awhile. 

“ No," he continued, ^^the dog is not here. He is a 
savage brute when strangers are about, especially at 
night ; and here, my lord, let me give you a bit of 
advice. If you are in the habit of walking out of doors 
at night, and should conclude hereafter to walk this 
way, you had better find old Robert on the morrow, and 
make a friend of his dog. You can easily do it with the 
master to help you." 

Edwin thanked his guide for the information, but he 
should not be likely to profit by it, as he should probably 
never think of walking about the court alone by night. 

It was by accident," he said, that I went as far as 
I did to-night. I was lost in meditation, and wandered 
on without thinking whither I went." 

‘^Just as the earl fancied you would do," returned 
Rufus with a laugh. “ And who knows but you might 
have kept on to this postern, if I had not come in your 
way." 

I hardly think it, good Rufus. My senses were 
coming home when I met you." 

Ha ! uttered the guide, as they turned an angle of 
of one of the towers, here are sight-seers ahead of us! 
What ho ! Whom have we here ?" 

“ Is that you, Rufus !" asked a voice from the dark- 
ness. 

Aye — and who art thou 1" 

Old Robert calls me his Spitfire." 

Oho ! It's thou, Roderic ?" 

‘‘ The same, at your service." 


In the Trap at Last, 


175 


faith! You're just in season, good Roderic. I 
would show to our royal prince the place where Egfrid’s 
men did make the breach, and where the men of Offa 
held the enemy such valiant battle. Have you a lantern 
at hand 

“ Indeed, good man, you are taking more trouble than 
there is need of/' interposed our hero. “I can see all 
that I care to see by starlight.” 

“ As you please, my lord ; but if you will step this 
way — ^liere was the breach ; and here the head of the 
enormous ram came through. My soul ! I can hear 
the crash now.” 

By this time Edwin had discovered that there were at 
least half a dozen men, and that they were moving out 
from the shade of the tower, as though to gather about 
him, 

Rufus,” he said, somewhat sternly, how happens 
it that we find so many men here ?” 

‘‘ Oh, my lord, here is where they were wont to sit in 
the evening ; and this postern is the servants’ gate.” 

“And the dog you whistled to — is he not here ?” 

“ No — he is away with his master.” 

“Very well. I have seen enough, and I will now 
return.” 

“ Why such haste .?” 

“ It is my fancy.” And thus speaking Edwin began to 
retrace his steps, moving partly backwards, so as to 
keep his eyes upon the men who had come out from the 
arch of the postern ; and as he moved he held his 
quarter-staff ready for action ; for he had been thought- 
ful enough to take the faithful bit of ironwood with 
him, not more for a weapon of defence against stray 
dogs than as a companion and staff. 


The Royal Outlaw. 


176 


Hold, Sir Edwin. Let me say a word !” 

^‘Not a word, sir,'’ retorted the youth. And more- 
over, I can find my way back alone. I shall not require 
your attendance.” 

A quick cry from him called Rufus, and the men 
from the arch sprang forward. Edwin saw their intent, 
and while the thought flashed through his mind of 
wonder how such ruffians could have gained entrance 
to the ballium of the castle, he raised his staff and 
knocked the foremost man down. 

Hold !” he shouted, still moving rapidly backwards. 
‘‘ If you lay your hand upon me, your blood be upon 
your own heads ! I know you not, and I only ask you 
to leave me.” 

Another man had almost placed his hands upon the 
prince, when the heavy staff, with a whirl like lightning, 
came down upon his head, laying him, also, senseless 
upon the greensward. 

It was not until a third man had fallen beneath the 
blows of the unerring stick that the ruffians seemed to 
comprehend the nature of the man with whom they had 
to deal. Still advancing upon him they held a brief 
consultation, at the conclusion of which two of the 
number sprang away and disappeared in the darkness, 
and yet there were four or five left before him. That 
they were spies, and in the employ of his mortal enemy, 
Edwin had no doubt ; and yet none of them appeared 
to be armed. Or, at least, they had drawn no weapon 
upon him. Perhaps they had been forced to come 
unarmed in order to gain admittance to the castle. 

The prince was moving away^ keeping his assailants 
at bay with his staff, when he was startled by a heavy 
tread behind him, and as he attempted to turn, both his 


hi the Trap at Last. 


177 


arms were suddenly pinioned, and ere he could prevent 
he was drawn backward, and forced to the ground. A 
moment he struggled with all his might ; but when he 
found that four or five powerful men were upon him, 
he knew that resistance would be useless, and at the 
top of his voice he shouted for help. Only once, how- 
ever, did he cry out, for in a moment more a heavy 
hand was pressed over his mouth, and very soon a 
thick scarf was bound on for a gag. After this he was 
turned over upon his face, and when his hands had 
been securely lashed behind him, he was raised to his 
feet and led back towards the postern, where his captors 
stopped for a short consultation. 

The ruffians, whoever they were, must have had some 
friend, or friends, among the inmates of the castle : for 
they worked like men who knew the way and the impedi- 
ments they were likely to encounter ; and, furthermore, 
the gate was opened at their bidding, and they led their 
prisoner fom the court, and over the bridge to the open 
country beyond. The gate was closed behind them ; 
and when they had come together below the counter- 
scarp, the man calling himself Rufus took the lead, and 
they struck off towards, that part of the plain where 
the forest could be seen, like a dark embankment against 
the sky, in the dim distance. But the forest was not 
far away, and they were not long in reaching it ; and 
when they came to the edge of the wood they found 
horses there, all saddled and bridled, with one or two 
men keeping watch over them. 

Now, my noble prince/' said Rufus, approaching the 
youth and speaking with a strange mixture of sternness, 
threat, and respect, “ you must see very plainly that you 
are in my power, and if you would be treated with con- 


178 


The Royal Outlaw. 


sideration, you must surrender with a good grace and 
put us to no unnecessary trouble. First, I shall remove 
the bandage from your mouth ; but if you cry out or make 
any unseemly noise, I shall put it on again ; and I shall 
put it on tighter, too, than it was before. You will be 
placed upon the back of a horse and so secured to the 
saddle that you cannot fall off ; for, after the exhibition 
we have seen of your prowess and dexterity, we do not 
think it well for us to allow you the use of your arms.*’ 
Thus speaking, the man took off the gag ; and when 
Edwin had taken a few full and free inspirations of the 
fresh air, he asked : Am I your prisoner V' 

“ You are,” was the reply. 

And whither will you convey me 
‘‘ I should not suppose you would deem it necessary 
to ask that question, Sir Edwin. Of course there is but 
one power in the realm in whose name we should pre- 
sume to do such work.” 

” Rufus,” responded Edwin, in eager tones, if you 
are doing this work for pay — if you will bear me back 
to Durham castle — the sum which has been named to 
you shall be doubled — aye, trebled.” 

‘‘ Sir Prince,” replied the man, slowly and solemnly, 
‘‘were you the possessor of all the crowns of all the 
kingdoms of earth, and should you offer them all to me 
for your liberty, I would not grant it. You can offer 
me nothing compared with the reward my royal master 
will give me for this work, I care not for money. I 
am an officer, and I care to earn the distinction of hav- 
ing done my duty. If I am not a sad blunderer at read- 
ing human faces and human actions, I dare wager my 
very life that you would never step aside from the path 
of duty for money.” 


In the Trap at Last. 


1/9 


“ But, good Rufus,’' cried the youth, emboldened by 
the man’s candid manner to press him further, ‘‘ there 
are duties higher than those the rulers of earth can 
impose upon us.” 

He would have gone on, but the officer put forth his 
hand and stopped him, simply remarking : 

“ You do but waste your breath. My great respect 
for your person leads me to treat you becomingly ; but 
if you wish to be convinced that I am in earnest in the 
line of duty, I can be so severe that you would sooner 
think of asking mercy at the hands of Sigbert himself 
than of me.” 

This was spoken almost savagely ; and the prince 
moved back, and allowed those who stood ready for the 
work to lift him upon a horse. His feet and thighs 
were so secured to the saddle that he could not fall off, 
and at the same time the lashings gave him no pain. 

Sir Edwin, do you sit easily ?” 

As easily as I can with my hands taken from me,” 
answered our hero. 

Then I can do no more.” 

In a few moments the party were mounted, and, at a 
word from their leader, they started off. All that night 
they rode through the forest, and on the following 
morning they stopped at Richmond, where the prisoner 
was allowed to rest three hours. Rufus kept out of his 
way ; and as for the others, they only shook their heads 
when he addressed them. They had been commanded 
to hold no conversation with him. Towards noon they 
set forth again, stopping at night-fall at a way-side inn 
near Ripon, where they ate supper and allowed their 
horses to rest ; and, at the expiration of two hours, they 
were again on the road. 


i8o 


The Royal Outlaw. 


Those of the party who could read the stars knew that 
it was very near to the hour of midnight when they 
pulled up at the gate of York and demanded admittance. 
A few hurried words with the drowsy sentinel caused 
the ponderous gate to be swung open ; and for the first 
time in his life, Edwin of An wick entered the city where 
his father was born, and where, by right, his word should 
have been a law unto the people. By right he should 
have been conducted to the royal palace ,• but, instead 
thereof, he was conducted to a strong prison ; and before 
his captors left him, they saw him cast into a dungeon, 
and the door of triple iron made secure. 

Down upon his pallet of foul and matted straw, Edwin 
cast his weary frame ; and to God alone could he now 
turn his voice in supplication. There was no Tancred 
to be moved to mercy by the picture of his mother — no 
living thing of earth, in all the city, that knew him, to 
love him or to bear him sympathy. 




CHAPTER XVI. 

THE TWO PRINCES MEET. 

Sigbert was pacing to and fro in the small chamber 
of state, where his father had been wont to transact his 
private business. His fingers were nervously clutched 
in the folds of his ermined robe, and the pallor of his 
face, the compression of his lips, and the vehemence of 
his step, betrayed the strong, deep passions that stirred 
his soul. In one corner of the apartment, where the 
table was, stood the Archbishop Augustine, with three 
attendant monks ; while close by them, with their hats 
in their hands, stood Rufus and Roderic. 

By and by the prince stopped, and addressed the man 
called Rufus : 

‘‘ Did you not know the law when you captured your 
prisoner ? Had you not heard that his life was yours?" 

No, my lord," replied the man promptly. I had no 
such knowledge. I knew that I had a right to arrest 
him, aye, that it was my royal duty so to do ; but 1 had 
no right to assume the office of judge and executioner." 

You would have assumed no such office. You might 
have slain the fellow without arresting him." 

My lord, I " 

‘^Hold, sirrah !" cried Sigbert, with a fierce stamp of 


i 82 


The Royal Outlaw, 


the foot. Do you know whom you are addressing ? 
Don’t my lord me. • I am your king !” 

‘‘ Pardon, me — sire,” said Rufus, with a gulp. I 
knew not that you had yet assumed the royal office.” 

“ How, fellow ! And who did you think ruled in 
Northumbria ?” 

‘‘ I knew that you were, for the time, the ruling prince ; 
but I did not know that you were king.” 

“ By the gods !” vociferated the passionate prince, I 
shall yet smite some of these impudent dogs to death. 
I believe there is an understanding among them that 
they will insult me.” 

Hush, my son,” spoke the old archbishop. “This 
good man hath done nothing unseemly. Thou art as 
yet but the ruling prince ; and the title of king cannot 
be yours until the crown hath been placed upon your 
head.” 

“And do you join in the plot against me ?” demanded 
Sigbert, turning upon the aged prelate with flashing 
eyes. “ Have I no friends in York ?” 

For the instant there was a flush upon the archbishop’s 
face, and his nether lip quivered with unwonted 
emotion ; for he was a man of powerful impulse, warm 
heart, but stern and inflexible in the way of duty, and 
jealous of his rights and privileges. But he did not 
allow the passionate emotion to betray itself in words. 

“ My son,” he said, “ you do your subjects great injus- 
tice ; and you are over-sensitive on a trivial point. 
Men address you as they have been wont to address you 
for many years, knowing that, though the sceptre hath 
fallen into your hands, as it might have fallen into the 
hands of any one of Oswy’s ministers had he died child- 
less. Still you have not yet been crowned as king. But 


The Two Princes Meet. 


183 


the time is at hand, Sigbert. On the day after to- 
morrow the appointed time is up, and then you may 
claim your crown. But enough of this. There is busi- 
ness before us of more importance/' 

Aye," cried Sigbert, and I would have it settled at 
once. I claim that I have the right to command the 
execution of the law's most severe punishment upon 
this prisoner." 

“ Nay, my son, not so," answered Angustine. ‘‘ Since 
the prince Edwin hath been taken prisoner, and con- 
fined within the limits of our jail, he hath right to a 
trial ere he can be deprived of life. That sentence of 
the law which gives the right to take his life without 
form of trial, was only intended as a warrant to those 
who might attempt to arrest him ; if he were likely to 
escape them, then they could summarily take his life. " 

“But," demanded the prince, with another furious 
stamp of the foot, “ am I not ruler in Northumbria ?" 

“ Yes, my lord." 

“ And is not my word law .?" 

“ Ah, my son, you do not consider. Even allowing 
that the power was yours, would you not prefer that the 
first act of your reign should be on the side of clemency ? 
You may be assured that the hearts of the people will 
turn which way they are led by sympathy, and if you 
win them to yourself, you will gain a power which 
might not otherwise be ever yours." 

“ But," said the prince, hesitating and stammering, for 
he was approaching a subject that had given him most 
painful unrest, and yet one that he disliked to broach, 
“ suppose the sympathies of the people should take such 
a strange turn, and be so strong as to lead them to pre- 


184 


The Royal Outlaw, 


fer that Edwin of Anwick should be king instead of 
myself, 

Will you remove the disability from Edwin’s 
shoulders which now rests upon him ?” asked the arch- 
bishop quickly, 

“ No ! I’d sooner hold this hand of mine in the fire 
until the flesh were burned from the bones 1” exclaimed 
Sigbert, with passionate emphasis. 

‘‘ Then,” pursued Augustine, who shall remove the 
bond if you will not ?” 

There is no power in the realm, my lord prelate.” 

I think you speak truly, my son. Edwin of Anwick 
may be a thousand times the scion of a royal house, 
and yet he could not have a right to the throne while, by 
royal edict, he is outlawed. And since no one on earth 
save the king can remove that edict, or break its force, 
you have nothing to fear from him. And so, my son, 
you should see that in pursuing a moderate course to- 
wards your prisoner you will be the gainer.” 

And yet,” said Sigbert, with a show of relenting 
from his first position, ‘‘ the youth must die. There can 
be no safety for me while he lives.” 

“ That, my son, is a matter for after consideration. I 
see not what is to prevent you from passing sentence of 
death upon him immediately after his trial ; for there 
can be but one expectation as to the result thereof. It 
will be shown that Edwin was an outlaw, banished to 
Anwick Isle for the term of his natural life, unless 
during that life he might be pardoned by the power 
that condemned him ; and that the penalty of death was 
attached to the act of his voluntarily leaving the island 
while the edict was in force. All this will appear clearly 


The Two Princes Meet. 


185 


against him, and the sentence of death may then be 
pronounced/' 

“ And," demanded Sigbert, angrily, do you think 
my father would have waited for a trial had he been 
living r 

“ My son," returned Augustine, a slight curl of con- 
tempt manifest upon his lips, can you not understand 
that you are not yet where your father was ? This is 
the very point upon which hangs your whole lack of 
authority in the premises. You are not yet king. If 
you were, I should not seek to influence you thus. You 
are but the son of a king, and lawful heir to the crown. 
Only a king may condemn a Northumbrian nobleman 
to death unheard ; and even then there must be some 
show of mortal danger to the throne, or to the peace of 
the realm, to give color to the right. However, on the 
day after to-morrow your term of probation is up, and 
then, with the crown upon your head, you may consign 
your prisoner to death if you please." 

Enough !" exclaimed Sigbert, testily. “ I suppose 
my hands are tied as you say ; but I will go and see this 
royal outlaw. I never yet beheld him, and I have a 
curiosity to see how this man looks who might have 
been king to-day in Northumbria if his father had not 
outraged the will of my royal uncle. Have you seen 
him, my lord prelate V 

No, my son." 

Will you bear me company to the prison ?" 

“ With pleasure." 

Then well soon see what he is like. Wait till I 
throw off this ermined robe of state, for I would not that 
he should know who I am. We will depend upon you, 


The Royal Outlaw. 


1 86 


Rufus, to conduct us ; but remember — not a word to 
Edwin of who his visitor is/' 

******* 

Edwin of Anwick awoke in the morning, and he 
knew from the volume of light that came in through the 
small loop-hole in the wall that the sun was well up. 
At first he rubbed his eyes and gazed about as though 
not quite sure that he had fully awakened ; but in a very 
short time he remembered the events of the previous 
night, and the conviction came coldly and sadly upon 
him that he was a prisoner, and in the hands of the most 
deadly enemyl His cell was a small one, and noisome 
and filthy ; and a shudder crept through his frame when 
he observed the wretched pallet upon which he had slept 
so soundly 

“And this," he said, “is the end of my adventure — 
the end of my career. Oh, good Oswald, if I had taken 
thy advice, I should have known better. Reason should 
have told me that I could not go so far from 
Anwick, and escape the emissaries of the king. But 
here I am, and from this place I shall go to my death. 
Well, well — perhaps ’tis better so than to wear away as 
my father did. I could never have been free. Sigbert 
never would have relented. No, no — it would have 
been but one continuous battle with spies and assassins. 
Alas ! If I could but see dear Norna once more ere the 
fatal blow is stricken. Could I but rest my head upon 
her bosom a few short moments, and feel the warmth of 
her generous love, I think I could die more willingly " 

A few minutes, during which the prisoner paced 
thoughtfully to and fro, and then his words betrayed a 
new inspiration. 


The Two Prmces Meet, 


187 


“What is it to die? All' must meet the dread 
angel at some time ; and how many there be who are 
called away, long ere they have lived the years that I 
have lived. From the bosom of the mother to the staff 
of decrepit age, Death takes the children of earth as it 
seemeth to him best. All ages, and all stations, furnish 
subjects alike to the destroyer. If my time hath come, 
I shall depart. And whither T He took the ivory min- 
iature from his bosom, and gazed upon it. “ Oh, my own 
sweet, sainted mother, shall I come to thee ? Is there, 
within the providence of God, a life in the future where 
we who die shall come together again and be happy in 
love and blessedness ? I think so. My faith is strong. 
I feel it in my soul that the better part of me cannot 
die, and if it cannot die it must live for aye — and then, 
dear mother, we shall meet beyond the dark valley. Sweet 
mother, but for the fact that you saved my life when 
once before I was within the power of mine enemy, I 
should have no shadow now of hope. But wherefore was 
I saved then ? Why was the hand of the Almighty so 
plainly stretched forth in my behalf ? Was it only that 
I might be saved for this public death ? Oh, if I could 
but read the import of that mysterious interposition ! If I 
was then saved for some purpose of good — ^if there was 
an unseen power directing those events — it does not 
seem that I can be permitted to die the death that 
Sigbert hath designed for me.*' 

Another pause — standing with his arms folded upon 
his bosom, and his head bowed — and then starting 
suddenly up — 

“No, no — it was foolish thus to hope ! If there is an 
eternity of life for man beyond this earth, then this poor 
life is at best but a span, and in the view of God, the 


i88 


The Royal Outlaw, 


child of an hour and the old man of four-score, have 
both lived alike. Upon the battle-field men escape 
when death hath its hand upon them, and then die 
when death seemeth afar off. I was spared by the 
Dane ; and it was but a wondrous chance, the like of 
which hath happened to many others. Now I am in the 
direct hand of mine enemy, and chance must be against 
me. Had chance been set apart to my befriendment, I 
should not be here.'' 

The prisoner had ceased speaking, and was searching 
for a clean spot on the pallet where he might sit, when 
the door of his cell was opened, and three men entered. 

Sir Edwin," spoke the foremost, “ we have come to 
conduct you to another apartment, where you will find 
more comfortable quarters than here ; but ere we lead 
you forth you must suffer yourself to be bound." 

The thought flashed through our hero's mind that he 
might attack these men ; and if he could overcome 
them, attempt his escape from the jail ; but one of them 
who stood apart, was armed with a ponderous club, as 
though prepared for that very emergency ; and the 
youth wisely determined that he had better not make 
the attempt. So he suffered them to bind his arms 
behind him, and in this condition they led him forth 
from the cell into a narrow passage — which was so dark 
that even the walls could be but indistinctly seen. Pres- 
ently, however, they ascended a flight of stairs, and 
came into a region of better light and purer air. A 
short distance only from the head of the stairs was tra- 
versed, when the guides stopped and opened an iron 
door, beyond which the prince found an apartment 
much larger than the one he had left, much cleaner, and 
with furniture of respectable appearance and quality. 


The Two Princes Meet, 


189 


Here are two rooms,” said the man who had spoken 
before, and you can make yourself as comfortable as 
you please.” 

Edwin saw them both, and saw that the walls were of 
masonry and that the only apertures, save the door, 
were small loop-holes near the ceiling. These holes 
admitted light, but they were so high from the floor 
that he could not look through them. He was examin- 
ing the new quarters when the sound of other foot- 
steps caused him to look towards the door, where he 
beheld four men just entering, the two foremost of 
whom he at once recognized as his companions of the 
previous night — Rufus and Roderic. Then behind 
these two came two others who were strangers to him. 
One of them was an old man, tall and stately, and hab- 
ited in a garb which had a priestly look, though entirely 
unlike the garbs which he had seen worn by monks and 
friars who had visited Anwick. The other was a young 
man dressed in a courtly garb, with a face from which 
our hero instinctively turned with loathing and distrust. 

He turned his gaze away, and yet he could not help 
looking into that face again ; and this time the eyes of 
the two young men met. Edwin’s gaze was first 
unsteady, as though fearful of some deadly influence 
from the baleful light of those evil orbs ; but quickly 
his pride gave him firmness, and his gaze became fixed 
and even stem. The stranger, on the other hand, had 
at first gazed with steady and unflinching purpose, but 
gradually a tremor shook his frame ; and very soon his 
eyes wavered and finally drooped before the electric 
power of the gaze he had so readily courted. 

^‘My son,” said he of the sacerdotal garb, ^‘deem not 
this visit unseemly. We had a great desire to see the 


The Royal Outlaw, 


190 


son of Cadwallader, and also to see if we could do any- 
thing to make his situation more comfortable.” 

“ I think thou art Augustine, the archbishop,” said 
Edwin, gazing steadily into the prelate’s calm blue eyes. 

Your penetration is acute,” returned the visitor with 
a smile. 

It should not require much penetration to detect the 
noble prelate in your presence, my lord. And allow me 
to hope that in the Archbishop of York Edwin of An wick 
hath a friend ; for surely, in such an hour, and when I 
find myself in such company, a friend is most sadly 
needed.” 

“ To what company do you allude, my son T 

Edwin turned his gaze once more upon that evil face ; 
and then, in his deep indignation forgetting how dan- 
gerous it might be to stir the anger of the bad man, he 
pointed his finger towards the archbishop’s companion, 
and said, in bitter tones : 

^‘Behold mine enemy, who would hunt me to the 
death !” 

‘‘ Ha ! — Me !” gasped the man, quailing before the 
finger that steadily pointed him out. 

Aye,” pursued Edwin, still more bitterly. ‘‘ There 
is not another face like that face — no other eyes like 
those eyes ! O, I know thee, Sigbert. Thou canst not 
hide thyself from me while I can behold that evil mirror 
of an evil soul. O — start not. I do not fear thee. Be 
sure I shall never seek mercy at thy hands. If I have 
hope of succor, it must be in those who know what 
truth and love and friendship are !” 

‘‘ Now, by the gods ! all men may see how just is the 
doom to which I consign thee !” 

Then turning to the archbishop, Sigbert added : 


The Two Princes Meet, 


191 


My lord prelate, if treason broods not over that 
spirit, then I am no judge of human action. Come — ^we 
have no more business here. The atmosphere is rank 
with falsehood, and I would away from it.'' 

Thus speaking, the son of Oswy turned from the 
apartment, Rufus and Roderic following close behind 
him ; but the prelate stopped long enough to take the 
prisoner's hand, and say : 

My son, there is a just God in heaven." 

O — art thou my friend ?" 

I am not thine enemy, so fear me not." 

When Edwin of Anwick was next alone, with his 
breakfast served before him, he blamed himself for hav- 
ing spoken as he had to Sigbert ; but the words of the 
archbishop came back to give him courage. 

In the vestibule of the prison Sigbert dismissed the 
archbishop, and remained to speak with the jailer, whom 
he called into a private apartment. 

Hermon," he said, addressing the keeper of the 
prison, and at the same time taking a small parchment 
package from his bosom, you know that this prisoner 
is to die." 

So I have supposed, my lord." 

“ And you have supposed right. His fate is fixed, and 
no power of earth can save him. But I would spare him 
the ignominy of a public execution. In this packet is a 
powder which hath power to produce a sleep calm and 
serene, and yet a sleep so profound that the sleeper shall 
never awake to this life again. It hath no taste — no 
smell. Can you not give it to the prisoner in his food ?" 

I can mix it with the food I carry him." 

If you will do so I will bestow upon you more gold 
than you ever yet earned in a year. Will you do it T 


192 


The Royal Outlaw, 


The jailer reflected a while, and then said : 

I will do it, my lord/' 

Good I It will be a mercy unto the ill-fated man, as 
well as a gain to me." 

And Sigbert went away, hoping that he should have 
no more trouble with the case of the imprisoned out- 
law. 

That night, when the jailer brought to Edwin his 
supper, he set aside a small loaf of bread, remarking as 
he did so : 

My lord, I made a promise to-day. I said that I 
would place a certain powder in your food. I have 
done so. It is in yonder loaf ; so touch it not. But of 
all other food I bring thee thou mayest eat in safety. I 
have but kept my word. Had I said nay, thine enemy 
might have found a more ready tool. Ask me no 
questions. What I tell thee is true. Eat, and fear not, 
so long as thou givest a wide berth to that loaf." 

And Edwin eat with a new hope. It was something 
to have the jailer for his friend, — the jailer and the 
archbishop. But what could they do against the king ? 

And after all, the burden of his meditation was : 

Oh, would that I had listened to good Oswald. Far 
better for me had I remained upon Anwick Isle !" 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE EVE OF THE CORONATION, 

On the day following- the visit of Sigbert to the prison 
there was great bustle and stir in York. The coming 
day was to witness the coronation of the new king, and 
the people, ever .watchful of those rare occasions when 
festivity was free and general, and of long duration, had 
already laid aside their implements of toil in anticipa- 
tion of the enjoyment in store for them. And thus 
resting from their labors they were ready for the enter- 
tainment of news and gossip, he who had the most 
wonderful things to tell being held as the best compan- 
ion. On the previous day it had been whispered that a 
royal prince was in the city -prison. Curiosity was 
keenly alive, and in time the whole truth was known • 
and on this day the intelligence spread through the 
town, from lip to ear, until not a man or woman in 
York but knew that Edwin, the son of Cadwallader, was 
in the prison, and doomed to death. 

‘‘Ah, poor Cadwallader!’* ejaculated a middle-aged 
man, about whom a large crowd had gathered in the 
shop of Roland the baker. “ I knew him well ; and a 
fairer prince, or a better, never lived. His was a sad 
fate,” 


194 


The Royal Outlaw. 


The younger ones of the company were eager to 
hear the story of Cadwallader, and Roland told it them 
truly. And he told them, too, how the son of Cad- 
wallader and Edilberga had been outlawed simply 
because of his parentage. 

I saw Hermon, the jailer, this morning,'' he went 
on, and he told me that this young prince was one of 
the fairest and most comely men he ever saw." 

And he is to be put to death ?" 

‘‘Yes," 

“ And wherefore ?" 

“Because he left Anwick Isle against the express 
permission of the Royal Edict," 

“ It is shameful !" 

“ Aye — ^it is shameful. I have no doubt this Edwin 
of Anwick would make a much better king than 
Sigbert." 

Upon that a man who wore a soldier's garb spoke 
out : 

“ Have a care, my friends. Think as much as you 
please, but beware how you speak. Sigbert hath his 
spies in every quarter of the city. He sits in fear and 
trembling." 

But the good people were not to be silenced. The 
story of the unfortunate prince had excited their deep- 
est sympathy, and they could not hold their tongues. 

And the scene in the shop of the baker was a type of 
scenes that were transpiring all over the city. Many 
there were in every quarter who remembered the royal 
Cadwallader very well ; and they knew that he ought to 
have been king : and the presence of the son of that 
unfortunate prince in the city prison served to bring 
the old story freshly to mind, and it was told by 


The Eve of the Coronation. 


T95 


hundreds of tongues to thousands of listening ears, 
while in thousands of sympathizing breasts the story 
found echo in responsive love and good-will. 

Late in the afternoon the ruling prince sent for 
Hermon to come to the royal palace. 

‘‘ Well, good Hermon, how is it with your prisoner ?” 

Sire,” replied the jailer, willing to tickle the prince’s 
ear with the royal address, there would seem to be 
some special power holding watch and ward over the 
welfare of my prisoner. Thrice have I placed before 
him bread containing the powder you gave me, and 
thrice hath he eaten without so much as breaking the 
loaf.’^ 

‘‘ Then hark ye, Hermon. To-night, for his supper, 
do you make a savory stew of rabbit’s meat, and into it 
put that bread. Wilt do it ?” 

“ I will make it, sire.” 

‘‘ Good ! And be sure he has nothing else.” 

The jailer did not promise this latter thing ; but went 
away fully determined that not for all the wealth the 
king could bestow would he harm a hair of young 
Edwin’s head. 

Not long after Hermon took his leave, Ethelred 
entered the prince’s closet, and informed him that Offa, 
Earl of Durham, with a large retinue, had arrived in 
the city. 

Aye,” responded Sigbert, I expected him, but why 
should he travel with such a retinue ? How many fol- 
lowers hath he ?” 

I should say full fourscore, or mayhap, an hundred 
knaves, all armed and well mounted.” 

Now, by my faith, the earl doth aim to make show 
of his great wealth. But let him do it. When I am 


196 


The Royal Outlaw. 


king I shall lay claim to some of his vast possessions ; 
for I am fully resolved that the Lady Norna shall be 
my queen/’ 

‘‘And there hath been another arrival, sire. The 
Lady of Hilda is here. She came with the Earl ; and 
bearing her company is that stout knight of Anwick, 
called Oswald.’’ 

“ Ha !” cried the prince, “he is Edwin’s friend?” 

“ Yes, sire.” 

•‘ And what doth he in the train of the Abbess ?” 

“ That I cannot tell. They are now with the arch- 
bishop.” 

“ By my life ! I like it not. Ethelred. This Oswald 
should not be here at all. I doubt that man. I tremble 
when I behold him. Hath he no look for you that 
maketh you start and quiver ?” 

“ He hath a look, sire, that puzzles me. As I live I do 
not believe him what he seemeth. Were I in your place, 
when I had put Edwin out of my way, I should next 
turn my attention to him.” 

“ I shall do so, Ethelred. And now, my friend, it is 
my desire that you detail a score, or more, of our most 
trusty fellovrs, and send them out into the city to-night, 
to watch and listen, and to be prepared on their return 
to tell me what is the temper of the people. I would 
know particularly what they say of Edwin of Anwick. " 

The night came, and passed, and when the spies whom 
Ethelred had sent forth were collected in the ante- 
chamber, previous to making their report, they agreed 
that they would not draw down upon their own heads 
the wrath of their royal master by telling him the truth. 
Soj when they “were admitted to his presence, they told 
him falsely. They told to him that the people through- 


The Eve of the Coronation. 


197 


out the city were crying, till they were hoarse : Long 
live good Sigbertr and '‘'‘Death to all traitors and outlaws T 

“ Do the people cry thus 

‘‘Aye, truly, sire/' 

And the prince gave them money, and sent them 
away. 

“ Good Ethelred, and you, Adelstane, lend me your 
ears and your wisdom ; for there is a subject weighing 
upon my mind which hath given me much trouble ; but 
since the citizens are crying out against the outlaw, I 
feel more easy. Offa, Earl of Durham, and Augustine, 
the Archbishop, have demanded that Edwin of Anwick 
shall have public trial before the ceremony of corona- 
tion takes place. Can this be prevented ? I had hoped 
that the outlaw might perish in his dungeon ; but there 
is no such fortune for me. Ah, here comes Barhuff. 
Good Barhuff, do you know what hath been demanded 
touching the trial of Edwin of Anwick ?" 

“ I have heard, sire, that our good Earl of Durham 
has demanded that he be tried before the ceremony of 
your coronation.” 

“ Aye, not only Offa, but the archbishop, also, hath 
made the demand. I had just asked of Ethelred and 
Adelstane, if I could prevent this thing ; and now I ask 
you. What say you, gentlemen ?’' 

They all three shook their heads ; and then Adelstane 
spoke : 

“It were useless to object, sire. A peer of the 
realm — and such young Edwin is by birth — cannot be 
held in prison, after the death of the king, if two or 
more companion peers demand his trial. Were you 
king, you could do as you pleased ; but if the arch- 
bishop hath joined with Offa, in the demand, you can- 


The Royal Outlaw, 


198 


not be crowned until that demand hath been complied 
with/^ 

And can they remove the edict by which Edwin is 
outlawed ?” asked Sigbert, trembling with apprehension. 

‘^No, no, my lord,** answered Adelstane, quickly. 

You have no occasion for fear in that direction. 
Thanks to your lucky star, a royal edict can only be set 
aside by a royal hand but a penalty, involving life^ 
may, I think, in the event of the king’s death be for- 
given. The most that can be done, without revolution, 
will be to reprieve the youth, and send him back to 
An wick.** 

Sigbert*s countenance grew brighter, and he breathed 
more freely ; and then came to the surface the dread 
which had oppressed him. 

Thank God !** he cried, ‘‘ they cannot set Edwin free, 
and claim for him the crown !** 

In heaven*s name, my dear Sigbert,** exclaimed 
Adelstane, “has such a thought troubled you !** 

“ In truth it has.** 

“ Then let it trouble you no more. By a law of the 
land, as solemn as law can be made, no chamber of 
peers can undo a royal edict. As I said before, they 
may protect life ; but they cannot restore to place and 
power.** 

“ Then,** said Sigbert, with beaming eye, “ let the 
trial come. They may spare Edwin*s life, if they will ; 
but woe unto the man that stands in Edwin's shoes 
when I am king !** 

^ Hi Hi ^ Ht Ht 

The appointed hour had come — the hour looked for- 
ward to by so many with expectations as various as 


The Eve of the Coronation, 


199 


there were variety of tastes and desires — and within the 
great cathedral of York — at that time the largest build- 
ing in England — were assembled the peers of the realm, 
together with men and women of high and low degree. 
Upon the broad dais at the head of the nave, sat the 
archbishop, who, for the time, held rule, as the crown 
and the sceptre were both in his keeping. With him 
were the more powerful barons of the kingdom, fore- 
most among whom sat the Earl of Durham. Upon his 
left, near the golden crucifix which she herself had 
given, sat the Lady of Hilda, and with her was the 
beautiful daughter of Offa, the observed of all who 
could get a view of her sweet and lovely face. Sigbert 
was also upon the dais wearing the ermine robe which 
modesty and good taste might have prompted one in his 
position to have left off until the crown was his to wear 
with it. But the prince was not a modest man ; and as 
for his good taste, there may have been more of ignor- 
ance than of ill-judgment. The area where the tran- 
sept crossed the nave was occupied by those of high 
degree — by knights and esquires, and fair ladies ; while 
farther away were assembled a multitude of citizens — 
men of trade, men of art and science, artizans, and those 
who toiled in the lower calling of life ; but all together 
now, and all moved by the one desire to behold 
the Outlaw of Anwick, and to see their new king 
crowned. 

At a sign from him who presided over the scene, a 
herald took position before the dais, and having blown 
a blast upon his brazen trumpet, he anounced that 
Edwin of Anwick, outlawed from his birth, claimed 
through his peers the right to a life which he had for- 
feited by law. 


200 


The Royal Outlaw, 


And then, up from the north transept, came the 
prisoner, led by two of the chief officers of the royal 
household ; and having ascended the platform upon the 
right of the prelate, he turned and faced the multitude. 
A little while all was silence in that vast space ; but 
soon a murmur arose — a murmur which cut to the soul 
of Sigbert like a two-edged sword — for it was a union 
of a thousand voices breathing praise and admiration of 
the noble youth, the story of whose life they had so 
lately heard. 

And then Augustine, respected and beloved by all the 
true-hearted people of York, arose and spoke. He had 
not much to say. The story of Edwin’s father was too 
well known to require an extended statement ; but he 
gave a brief outline — telling how Cadwallader came to 
be outlawed and exiled, and how the same painful dis- 
ability had been visited upon the son — a son unborn 
when the act was committed which had brought the 
penalty upon him. 

I need say no more ; but a true knight and honor- 
able gentleman, who has been with Edwin from his 
birth, will present the claims of the youth. He hath 
full permission from our noble peers to speak, so give 
him respectful hearing. This is the man — called 
Oswald.'' 

And then Oswald, habited in a knightly garb, moved 
forward, and stood proudly erect upon the edge of the 
dais. Surely a more commanding presence had never 
appeared before the people. Of massive and well-pro- 
portioned frame ; every limb grandly developed, and 
every feature stamped with the seal of manly beauty ; 
his broad, full brow bearing, even to the most ignorant, 
token of strong and active intellect ; while his tone and 


The Eve of the Coronation, 


201 


bearing plainly told that nature had made him for a 
captain. 

Sigbert, when he had gazed long and earnestly upon 
the man whose presence moved the multitude as no 
multitude had been moved in York for years, pulled 
Adelstane by the sleeve, and whispered convulsively 
into his ear : 

Adelstane, who is that man T 
He is called Oswald, my lord. He was Cadwalla- 
der’s friend, and hath been young Edwin's tutor.” 

“Aye,” pursued the prince, quivering from head to 
foot, “ but he is more than that. What else is he T' 

“Indeed, my lord, I do not know how to answer 
you.” 

“ Adelstane, I swear to thee, that is the man who wore 
the white beard, and broke in upon our banquet ! — the 
man who likened me to an evil spirit in the presence of 
my company ! — the man who appears and disappears so 
mysteriously ! What say you ?” 

“ By the holy-rood !” returned Adelstane, his face 
turning pale and red by turns, “ he hath a look like that 
mysterious man, and his voice is very like.” 

“ Aye — exactly like the voice that came up over our 
festive board that night. What is he ?” 

“ Hark !” said Adelstane. “ Hear what he says.” 

Oswald had commenced speaking, and the vast con- 
course of people were as still and silent as though each 
member thereof had been a statue. He recounted the 
principal events in the life of his pupil — told how good 
and pure he was — ^how brave and gallant — how deep 
and strong was his mind, and how he had mastered 
every species of science known in England — ^how he had 
ever sought to improve in body and spirit — ^how great 


202 


The Royal Outlaw. 


was his prowess in the use of arms, — and finally he told 
the story of that dark, tempestuous night when Off a and 
his daughter had been saved. As he told this story, 
painting each scene with vivid power, the eager people 
sat in breathless wonder and admiration ; but when he 
had concluded, a murmur arose upon the air, growing 
louder and louder, until a shout of praise filled the vast 
cathedral, shaking the massive walls to their very foun- 
dations. 

Then Oswald told of the death scene at Anwick — of 
the coming of the king's ministers with the king's par- 
don for Cadwallader. And he took from his bosom a 
parchment roll which he opened and exposed to the 
people. 

“ Here,” he said, in tones that bore his words to the 
remotest corners of the place, ‘‘ is the king’s full and 
free pardon to Cadwallader, and by which that prince 
was restored to every right and privilege of his station 
by birth. But there came no pardon for Edwin. For 
the boy who had never done a wrong deed ; who had 
never breathed a thought of evil to his king or to his 
country ; but whose every wish and prayer was for that 
country's good, — for him there was no pardon! And 
why was this ? My lords and gentlemen,” he continued, 
sweeping his eyes over the noble company upon the 
dais, why was this ? Is not the reason plain ? The 
king fully believed that Cadwallader was dying — that he 
could never more stand in the way of his son Sigbert— 
so he risked nothing in restoring him to his ancient 
rights. But not so with the outlawed son. He was 
young, and should he once gain the freedom of a prince 
of the realm, the people might refuse to own Sigbert 


The Eve of the Coronation. 


203 


for their king, especially since it would appear that 
Edwin was the rightful heir to the throne/' 

“ It is false T' cried Sigbert, starting to his feet. 

But Adelstane and Ethelred pulled him back, and 
urged him to hold his tongue. 

Oswald noticed not the interruption. 

But," said he, the king was not unmindful of young 
Edwin's existence. He dared not pardon him ; but I 
will tell you what he did dare." 

And thereupon Oswald went on and told the story of 
Edwin's abduction — of his being taken away by the 
Danish chieftain, Tancred — of the doom to which the 
king had consigned him — of the preparations for the 
death — and then of the wondrous agency of his mother’s 
portrait in snatching him from the very jaws of 
destruction. 

“ Ethelred is here. Ethelred was the king's agent to 
see that the Dane did his horrible work as he had 
promised. Let Ethelred speak, and say if I have not 
told you truly." 

A thousand eager men stood upon their feet to gain 
sight of Ethelred, who sat pale and trembling by Sig- 
bert's side. 

“ Stand up !" gasped the prince. Stand up and 
swear 'tis all a lie !" 

But Ethelred dared not do it. He bowed his head, 
and hid his face with his hands ; and those who saw 
this, knew that remorse was making him weak and 
miserable. 

Another murmur arose upon the air, this time swelling 
to a groan of agony, and anon to a howl of indigna- 
tion and stern reproof. 

A while the bold and stalwart knight gazed upon the 


^204 


The Royal Outlaw, 


throng before him in silence ; and when next he spoke 
his voice was deep and strong and of a wondrous 
power. 

Men of Northumbria, would to God it were yours to 
give to Edwin of Anwick the rights which should be 
his. I ask you, one and all — I ask you, my lord and 
gentlemen — and you, my generous sons of toil — if 
Edwin were free to-day — if the royal edict were 
revoked, and he could stand before you untrammeled by 
exile, and untainted by outlawry, would you take him 
for your king ?” 

The answer that seemed by its volume to start the 
ponderous roof from its rest, fell like a thunderclap upon 
the son of Oswy ; for it seemed as though every tongue 
had joined in the response which gave the popular 
heart to the son of Cadwallader. He cowered a 
moment ; and then, like a beast at bay, he started to 
his feet, and approached the edge of the platform. 

‘‘ Men of York,'* he cried, what mummery is this? 
Why will you let your hearts be turned away from your 
true prince ? Why allow yourselves to think of impos- 
sibilities ? What are all these things to me ? I have 
had no hand in them. Ask the archbishop — ask whom 
you please — can Edwin of Anwick be pardoned save by 
royal edict? My lord prelate, I ask you.” 

And the aged archbishop arose and made answer : 

Sigbert saith truly. Only the king can remove the 
edict by which Edwin is outlawed.” 

‘‘ And,” pursued Sigbert, impetuously, ‘‘ can the crown 
be placed upon the head of an outlawed man ?” 

The archbishop shook his head, and answered : 

No !” 

Then spoke Sigbert further still : 


The Eve of the Coronatio7i, 


205 


By the law of the realm, Edwin’s life is forfeit. Say, 
my lord prelate, is it not so ?” 

“ Edwin’s life is forfeit by the royal edict !” replied 
Augustine. 

‘‘ Men of York — ^my people of Northumbria,” said 
Sigbert, growing bold as he saw the countenances of the 
vast audience falling in sorrow and sadness, let it be 
mine to give back to the outlaw this time his life. When 
I am king I will overlook and pardon this offence.” 

And while the people sat in solemn silence, not feeling 
to respond to the speech of a prince, Oswald turned and 
addressed him thus : 

“ My lord, when you are king, will you not do more 
than you have promised ? Behold young Edwin, 
now in the morning of life, his soul yearning for joys 
such as the humblest of your subjects may freely call 
their own. While the taint of outlawry is upon him he 
can never be happy ; never taste the sweet comforts of 
home, nor bask in the warm light of domestic bliss ; for 
never will he take a wife to share his sad and solemn 
exile. Say, my lord, will you set aside the edict of out- 
lawry, and extend to him full and free enjoyment of his 
rights as a man and a citizen ?” 

Sigbert had marked the working of Norna’s features, 
and he knew full well where Edwin’s heart was fixed in 
its hopes of future joy and bliss ; and in the bitterness 
of his joyous spirit he declared : 

‘‘ Never ! There’s treason in his heart, and an outlaw 
he shall remain ! Thank God that power is mine ! In 
all Northumbria I am the only true heir to the throne, 
and I will not risk the peace of the realm by setting free 
a man who might, by the accident of birth, find ground 


2o6 


The Royal Outlaw. 


for raising the banner of sedition and revolt. Men of 
Northumbria, for your good I take this stand 

And still in solemn silence the vast throng gazed from 
stalwart knight to evil-fronted prince, and then upon 
the fair youth whose destiny was thus discussed. They 
acknowledged not the good which Sigbert professed to 
bestow upon them, but seemed rather to dwell upon 
that fairer and more manly prince, as though to him 
they would look for the good they craved. 

When it was found that the assembly would make no 
response to the speech of Oswy’s son, save that of omin- 
ous silence, Oswald stretched forth his hand and said : 

My lords and gentlemen, and you, my brothers of a 
common country, I pray you lend me your ears yet 
awhile longer. I have another story to tell ; one that 
shall bring light to your hopes, and lift the burden from 
your wearied spirits.'* 

His lip quivered, and a rich moisture gathered in his 
eyes. Even Sigbert was awed by the majesty of his 
look, and shrank away to his seat while the eager, wait- 
ing people bent their ears to listen. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

A STORY. — THE CORONATION, — CONCLUSION. 

‘‘ My friends,” said the noble knight, his voice 
strangely tremulous at the beginning, but gaining power 
and growing steady as he progressed, you have heard 
the story of Cadwallader's exile and outlawry ; but you 
have not heard the whole story of his life ; and much 
that hath been told to you is not true, though those who 
told it believed they knew whereof they affirmed. I will 
tell you something of that prince's life which hath never 
yet been told in York, save to our good archbishop ; and 
even he hath not known it many hours. 

“When Cadwallader was first banished to An wick 
Isle, he cared little for the penalty, since he was to 
enjoy the society of his blessed wife. In Edilberga his 
whole soul was bound up ; and of all the joys of earth 
this one boon of love was to him the sum and sub- 
stance. In the quiet retreat of An wick Castle, with the 
broad ocean spread out before him, and the blue can- 
opy above his head, breathing the pure, fresh air of 
heaven, untainted by the plots and counterplots of a 
court, he felt that he could spend his life in peace and 
comfort. A few short months, and a new joy was added 
to his crown of life. A son was born to him- — a son so 


2o8 


The Royal Outlaw. 


fair and so beautiful that he seemed a gift of some fairy 
spirit ; and the heart of Cadwallader swelled anew with 
praise and thanksgiving. 

But his joy was of short duration after that. The 
dark hour came in when his beloved wife was taken 
from him by the fell destroyer ; and when he had taken 
his last look at the still, pale face, and had seen the cold 
clods of earth heaped upon the spiritless form, he was 
stricken down with an agony so intense that the strong 
frame gave way beneath it ; and for long and weary 
months, he lay as one upon the verge of the dark 
valley. 

“ And now bereft of his wife and suffering the pain of 
disease, he began to think of the gloom and sadness 
that must be his in the time to come if he was to be 
shut up within the narrow limits of that sea-girt isle, 
Death was the penalty which had been fixed upon the 
act of leaving the island. He thought of the scenes of 
other days — of the great world from which he had been 
shut out forever — and he almost prayed that death 
might come and give him release. While suffering 
under this sickness, his only attendant was Oswald, a 
true and faithful knight, who had determined to follow 
his fortunes to the end. As Cadwallader began to 
mend, the hand of disease was laid upon Oswald ; and, 
in time it came to pass that the prince grew strong, and^ 
in turn, attended upon the sick dependent. 

One day, while Oswald lay in his bed and Cadwal- 
lader ministered unto him, the sick man said : 

* My dear master, the hand of a disease is upon me 
from which I shall never recover. My father was sick 
as I am now ; and he told to me that his father was 
likewise sick in the same manner. It is a disease in- 


Conclusion. 


209 


herited from my sire, and I know full well that I shall 
never again be strong and well/ 

Then Cadwallader had no thought of his friend’s 
meaning ; but again Oswald spoke, and this time he 
said : 

‘‘ ‘ My master, you and I are of the same height, of the 
same form, of the same age, and even our hair and 
beard agree in color. I know that life can have few 
more comforts for me. Never more shall I care to roam 
about, for I knew full well that I shall never have the 
strength. Time is changing us both. Let us for a 
while takeonly thefewwhom we can fully trust into our 
confidence, and remain shut out from all the rest of the 
world. I will be Cadwallader, and you shall be Oswald.* 
Cadwallader listened in blank amazement. At first 
the thing seemed impossible ; but, after a time, he came 
to regard it more favorably. And, again, he was at first 
unwilling to accept so great a sacrifice at the hands of 
his faithful friend : but Oswald swore that never again 
would he go beyond the limits of Anwick isle — never — 
let come what would. He swore so solemnly that the 
prince was forced to take him at his word, and the plot 
was laid and the work commenced. Knowing what 
difficulty he might have to encounter in case he should 
ever after wish to resume his own proper name and sta- 
tion, Cadwallader sent for Offa, Earl of Durham, and 
for the Lady of Hilda ; and when they came — which they 
did very shortly, — ^he explained to them the nature of 
the business between himself and Oswald ; and he asked 
their counsel and besought their assistance. They con- 
ferred together, and blamed him not for the step he pro- 
posed to take ; for they felt that his outlawry was unjust 
— the deed of a man who hoped to thrive upon his 


210 


The Royal Outlaw. 


downfall ; and they furthermore pledged themselves to 
secrecy, while secrecy was needed ; and also promised 
that they would bear witness to his identity, should he 
ever after wish to resume the name he then cast off. 

‘‘ And from that hour Cadwallader became Oswald, 
and Oswald became Cadwallader ; and the knight, lying 
sick and faint upon his bed, took upon himself to act the 
part of parent to the child. A few — only three — of the 
servants were let into the secret ; and, for three long 
years, the new Oswald did not leave that sick chamber 
except at night when his face could not be plainly seen. 
And, during all this time, it was given out that Cadwal- 
lader was lying sick upon his bed, and that his faithful 
Oswald would not leave him. 

And now the time had come when the boy Edwin 
needed a tutor and a guide, and the prince, under the 
name and guise of Oswald, came forth to assume the 
new duty. The change of garb ; the new fashion of 
wearing his beard, together with the touches which the 
hand of time had laid on, proved a sufficient disguise. 
Suspicion, once aroused, might have then detected the 
cheat; but so stoutly had the story of Cadwallader’s 
continued sickness been kept in the minds of the retain- 
ers, that they never thought of suspecting, or of looking 
for more than had been represented. And on the main 
land it was the same. People everywhere believed that 
the outlawed prince was sick nigh unto death, and when 
the false Oswald came forth among them, they knew 
him not for other than he professed to be. And so it 
came to pass that he traveled to and fro, and none of 
those who might have wished him harm were the wiser. 

And how wa& it with the boy ? Ah, the heart of the 
father was filled with joy and gladness when he found 


Conchcsion. 


21 I 


that the lad, while yielding respect and obedience to the 
man whom he regarded as his parent, yet gave of his 
boyish love to his kind tutor. It was his Oswald whom 
he loved, and to whom he looked for love in return ; and 
he received that returning love — Oh ! God only knows 
how warmly and how deeply ! And as Edwin grew in 
years and in strength, still believing the sick man to be 
the author of his being, his love for his tutor grew and 
strengthened beyond measure. 

“ And so, my friends, the years passed on, until at 
length the sick man was known to be surely sinking 
towards the eternal rest. Then it was that the thought 
occurred to the prince of seeking a pardon from the 
king, and you know what the result was. Oswy, 
believing that his royal nephew could not live to derive 
any benefit therefrom, — in fact, having the pledge ot 
his physician that the outlawed prince was surely dying 
— made out a full pardon for Cadwallader — a pardon 
restoring him to all the rights of which by royal edict 
he had been deprived — and sent it unto him. 

Oh 1 what an hour was that to the redeemed prince. 
Safely in his bosom — ^laid against his beating breast — 
lay the precious parchment, bearing Oswy's seal and 
signature, while Oswy's ministers stood by and saw a 
weak and weary pilgrim of earth passing away into the 
realm of shadows, ready when those dim eyes should 
have closed forever^ to return and swear unto the king 
that the royal outlaw was dead. The change came. 
The loyal and the brave, the true and the noble- 
hearted, the patient and saint-like man of sorrow, 
closed his eyes forever upon these earthly scenes, and 
it was told in Northumbria — in city and in hamlet — 
that Cadwallader was dead. And yet Cadwallader 


212 


The Royal Outlaw. 


lived, a hale and hearty man, stouter and stronger than 
he was ever before. 

But not yet did the prince choose to reveal himself. 
He would not tempt the king to revoke that precious 
pardon. For himself that edict bore little charm, save 
in so far as it gave promise of good to his son. A 
removal of the restraint upon the youth he could not 
hope for; so he must make this work for the good of 
both. 

“ You have heard the story of the coming of Off a and 
his fair daughter to Anwick Isle. Can you wonder that 
a love, warm, deep and tender sprang up between 
Edwin and Norna ? Cadwallader saw it, and from that 
time he knew that his son’s happiness for all his after 
life, depended upon his gaining a position to which he 
could invite the gentle maiden. 

‘‘ And yet the prince had formed no plan until a blow 
was stricken at his heart which aroused him at once to 
determined action. You have heard how the king sent 
his minions to drag the noble and unoffending boy to a 
horrible death. When the son had returned and told 
his story, Cadwallader’s course was decided upon. He 
determined that he would present himself before his 
countrymen without delay, and abide the result. 
Hardly had the resolution been taken when news came 
of Oswy’s death. As quickly thereafter as possible, 
Cadwallader set forth for Durham, stopping to see the 
Lady of Hilda by the way. His son not yet knowing 
his true father lived, would accompany him. At Hartle- 
pool they learned that spies were upon Edwin’s track, 
as they had been upon the watch at Anwick. On their 
way to Durham Castle they met and overcame six of 
them in a body. Arrived at Durham, Cadwallader dis- 


Conclusion. 


213 


covered that these spies, employed by Sigbert, were in 
every bush ; and it was furthermore discovered, by the 
confession of one whom Offa’s men captured, that 
they had orders to slay the youthful prince as soon 
as he was captured ; or, rather, not to capture him alive 
if they could avoid it. Upon this a consultation was 
held. It was Offa\s opinion that the surest way to pre- 
sent Edwin’s case to the public, so that he might have 
the benefit of the sympathy which was his due, would 
be to bring him to trial on the day set apart for the cor- 
onation. Were Edwin intrusted with the secret, all 
might fail ; and did they delay, some of Sigbert’s spies 
might find his life ere the fatal deed could be prevented. 
So Offa selected ten of his most trusty men — all stran- 
gers to Edwin — and commissioned them to assume for 
the time the guise of Sigbert’s minions, and to entrap 
the young prince, and bear him away to prison in York, 
where they were to report at once to the archbishop, 
and also to see that no harm came to their prisoner 
meanwhile. 

‘‘ My friends, brethren of my love, I am the true son 
of the royal Magaff whom you once honored and revered ; 
and here, before my countrymen, in whose truth and 
fidelity I know I may with safety confide, I once again 
take up and claim the name which for so many years I 
have not dared to own ; and before that God whom I am 
in the coming time to meet, and whose dread sentence 
should startle the evil-doer, I do most solemnly swear 
that no act of mine hath ever brought shame or dis- 
honor upon it !” 

He stopped — gazed one moment upon the wonder- 
stricken concourse before him ; and then, with big tears 
starting down his cheeks, he turned to where the youth- 


214 


The Royal Outlaw. 


ful prince had arisen from his seat, and, in trembling* 
accents, rapturously murmured : 

“ Edwin ! my boy ! my son ! I fear not to take thee 
to my bosom and cast thy future destiny upon the care 
of these noble lords, and these loyal citizens of your 
native land !*' 

And in a moment more, the son had fallen upon his 
father’s bosom, exclaiming, as his head was pillowed 
against the heart that had throbbed in love for him so 
long: 

‘‘ O, my father ! my father ! God be praised for this 
hour ! Now I know why thou hast ever held me so 
closely to thy bosom ; and now, too, I know why my 
first and strongest affection of earth was centred in 
thee ! O, I need no further proof ! God speaks to my 
waking spirit, and tells me that thou art my father T 

And there they stood, locked in each other’s arms ; 
nor awoke they from the sweet delirium of this first 
fraternal embrace of transporting love, until the thunder 
of five thousand voices, in strains wild and jubilant, came 
pealing upon their senses, giving them token that the 
rich blessing was not theirs alone to enjoy. 

At this point, Sigbert arose and took a few paces for- 
ward. During the past half hour, he had suffered so 
much that he was now almost an object of pity ; and 
had he from that moment shown a disposition to reform, 
he might have been forgiven by the people whose 
sense of propriety he had so long and so often outraged ; 
but no such disposition was his. He had promised 
Ethelred and Adelstane, if they would let him up, that 
he would be calm and moderate ; and perhaps he meant 
so to be. 

“ My lord prelate,” he said, addressing the archbishop. 


Conclusion. 


215 


do you give [credit to the story which his man hath 

toldr' 

“ My son,” answered Augustine, solemnly, I know 
that he hath spoken the truth.” 

“ Out upon thee for a superstitious dotard !” 

Adelstane started forward, and plucked the mad 
prince fiercely by the skirt of his robe ; but the friendly 
warning was unheeded. 

“ Had he told thee that he was dead Caesar come to 
life, I have no doubt you would have believed him i” 

A quick fiush suffused the prelate's face, and as 
quickly passed away ; and with a look half of pity, and 
half of contempt, he replied : 

“We will question competent witnesses, my lord ; and 
their testimony shall give us sure ground for judg- 
ment.” 

Then the archbishop summoned Off a, Eaii of Dur- 
ham, and bade him speak for or against the man who 
claimed to be the son of Magaff. 

And Offa, in a loud, clear voice, told what he knew. 

Then the archbishop summoned the Lady of Hilda ; 
and, as the holy woman arose and moved towards the 
edge of the platform, a thousand tongues — aye, thou- 
sands — ^joined in a prayer for blessings upon her ; for, 
throughout the realm, she was known as the friend and 
helper of suffering humanity in every quarter and every 
station. 

The Abbess gave her testimony as Offa had given his. 
She knew the man who had spoken to be Cadwallader, 
the royal outlaw of Anwick Isle. 

Sigbert began to tremble and suffer anew ; and pres- 
ently he said to the archbishop : 

“ My lord, why waste time further with this matter ? 


2i6 


The Royal Outlaw. 


Let the man be Cadwallader, and let him enjoy the 
rights to which my father’s pardon doth entitle him. 
And, furthermore, let me be crowned king of North- 
umbria.’' 

But the prelate shook his head. 

Ah, my son,' he said, if we give to the son of 
Magaff his full and just right, he must wear the crown 
his father wore.*’ 

“ Aye,” responded Offa, let Cadwallader wear the 
crown.” 

And then the peers of the realm — they who dared to 
speak — echoed the demand : 

“ Let Cadwallader wear the crown !’' 

And anon the cry was caught up by the people in the 
body of the cathedral, and from a myriad tongues went 
up the hopeful shout, till the very tiles upon the roof 
echoed responsive to the words : 

“ Let Cadwallader wear the crown !” 

And the good archbishop, bowing to the will thus 
freely and earnestly expressed, first kneeled in prayer 
to God, asking aid and support in the performance of 
the duty he felt called upon to discharge, and praying 
that the Divine blessing might rest upon the deed ; and 
then he summoned the son of Magaif to come forth ; 
and there, in the presence of the happy multitude, he 
placed the crown upon Cadwallader’s brow and gave 
the sceptre into his hands. 

And again the vast building shook with the thunder of 
jubilant strains, in the midst of which Sigbert made his 
•way out into the fresh air. 

Those who saw the son of Oswy go, thought he looked 
very pale, and noticed that his step was unsteady ; and 
two of his friends who followed him, found him just 


Conclusion. 


217 


outside the vestibule, laying upon the ground insensible. 
They picked him up and bore him to the palace ; but 
they bore only a lifeless form. The spirit, in a wild 
whirl of passion, had burst the bonds that bound it to 
its tabernacle of earth, and the crimes and the plots, the 
disappointments and sufferings of the ill-guided prince 
were at an end i 

^ ^ Hi 

‘‘ See, my lord,'' cried Prince Edwin, entering the 
apartment where sat the Earl of Durham, his eyes beam- 
ing with radiant light, and his face flushed with the 
rich warmth of joy, “ the king hath granted unto me 
full and free pardon, and I am, by royal edict, placed in 
the line of succession to the throne. Now, may I claim 
the priceless blessing you alone can bestow V 

“ Go first,” replied the earl, with a beaming smile, 
‘‘ and find if the heart you seek is still worth the asking. 
If you find my daughter true to the old love, you may 
bring her hither.” 

The prince must have been a long time in finding 
Noma ; or, at all events, it was a long time ere he 
returned ; but he came at length, leading the maiden 
by the hand ; and when the earl gazed into the sweet 
face of his child he knew that the deed which he did 
would make her very happy. 

‘‘There, my children,” he said, as he placed their 
hands together, “now make arrangements for the 
services of the good archbishop as soon as you please. 
And may God bless and keep you to the end.” 

“ Amen !” spoke a deep, solemn voice behind the 
youthful pair. 


2i8 


The Royal Outlaw. 


They turned, and beheld the king. 

“Your blessing, too, my father,"' craved Edwin. 

And with tearful eyes Cadwallader spoke the words 
of blessing. Then he took their hands, and presently 
added, in tones of deep and fervid devotion : 

“ Remember, my children, that the love of a true and 
faithful heart — a love which endureth, bright and pure, 
through all earthly trials, is a crown of life more rich 
by far than royal pomp or kingly diadem !” 


THE END. 


MRS. HAROLD STAGG 


A NOVEL. 


BY 

Robert Grant, 

Author of ‘‘Jack Hall,” etc. 


Beautifully Illustrated by Harry 0. Edwards. Baper Cover, 60 
Cents. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. 


This is a brilliant novel, in which the author has given a free 
rein to his undoubted faculty for social satire. Mrs. Harold 
Stagg is a capital portraiture whose prototype may be found in 
the drawing-rooms of New York, Boston and Newport. The 
story is told with the amusing and quiet cleverness which has 
made the author’s reputation, and contains many striking ideas 
which will cause Society’s backbone to creep. Like “ The Anglo- 
maniacs,” it places its heroine under a cross-fire from a wealthy 
swell and a talented youth to fame and fortune unknown — a 
situation which allows Mr. Grant an opportunity to exhibit a 
very interesting and unselfish type of the young American 
woman. In despite of the satire of which Mrs. Harold Stagg is 
the object, every man will like that lady for herself, even though 
he may not be as blindly devoted as her husband. 


A CAPITAL AMERICAN STORY. 


UNDER A CLOUD. 

BY JEAN KATE LUDLUM, 

Author of Under Oathf etc. 


ILLUSTRATED BY WARREN B. DAVIS. 


.'’’no. 800 Pages, With Numerous Illustrations. Handsomely 
Bound mrOloth, Price, $1.00. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


It was once asked by a celebrated Englishman : Who reads 
an American Book ?” The question is no longer a conundrum. 
American books are the popular reading of the present day. 

Under a Cloud” is a spirited and pathetic account of the trials 
of a New York lady, who, in consequence of a promise wrung 
from her by her father, is put into relations with her husband 
which are almost unprecedented. The chain of circumstances 
by which the husband is implicated in a crime and the heroic 
efforts of the wife to traverse this chain and unravel the mystery 
make a history of overpowering interest. 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER^S SONS, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


REUNITED 


A STORY OF THE CIVIL WAR. 


BY A POPULAR SOUTHERN AUTHOR. 


Illustrated by F. A. Carter. 


Handsomely Decorated Paper Cover, Price, 60 Cents. Bound 
in Cloth, Price, $1.00. 


This is a splendid novel of the late War. It deals with the 
armies and their operations on both sides and shows the feelings 
of brothers who crossed swords in the conflict. The main theatre 
of the incidents is the State of Kentucky and the famous blue- 
grass region celebrated for its beautiful women, its fine horses 
and its more widely known Bourbon whiskey. There is a brisk 
movement in the novel, in keeping with scouting, marching and 
cavalry charging. The author was a soldier, and he has crowded 
his pages with adventures and stories of camp-life, which have 
great interest, and charm one by their truth to nature. Rarely 
has any great crisis produced more heroic spirits than the War 
for the Union. They fought and bled on both sides of the line, 
and this novel commemorates their valor, and shows how true 
hearts were reunited at the end of the struggle, and that peace 
brought more than mere cessation from strife. This is a novel 
which appeals to every one. 


BERYL’S HUSBAND 


BY 

Mrs. Harriet Lewis. 


Author of **Lady Kildare^^^ Sundered Hearts f Het 

Double Li/ey* etc. 


WITS NUMEROUS EUU^EA&B ILLUSTRATIONS BY 0. A, TRAVER, 


Paper Ooveri 50 cents. Bound in Cloth, $1.00. 


A very charming story. It opens on the shores of Lake Leman, 
in the romantic city of Geneva, under the shadow of Mont Blanc. 
A young English girl, who has been educated at a boarding- 
school at Vevay, is suddenly left without natural guardians and 
means of support. Her beauty and interesting character attract 
a young English traveller, who induces her to run away with him 
and marry him. This is the beginning of a romantic novel of 
extraordinary vicissitudes and adventures. To give an analysis 
of the plot and situations would mar the interest of the reader. 
It is sufficient to say that it is equal to the best of Mrs. Lewis’s 
novels, not excepting ^‘Her Double Life” and ‘‘Lady Kildare.” 

F or sale by all booksellers and newsdealers, or sent, postpaid, 
on receipt of price, by the publishers, 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, 

Cor. William and §?ruce Streets, New Yorlu 


The Breach of Custom 


TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN 


BY 

Mrs. D. M. Lowrey 


WITH CHOICE ILLUSTBATIOHS BY O, W, BIJUOHS, 


Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 


This is a translation of an interesting and beautiful German 
novel, introducing an artist and his family, and dealing with the 
most pathetic circumstances and situations. The heroine is an 
ideal character. Her self-sacrifice is noble and exalted, and the 
influence which radiates from her is pure and ennobling. Every 
one who reads this book will feel that it is one which will be a 
life influence. Few German stories have more movement or are 
more interesting. There are great variety and charm in the 
characters and situations. 

For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of 
price by 

ROBERT BONNER»S SONS, Publishers, 

182 William Street, New York. 


THE NORTHERN LIGHT 


TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF 


E. WERNER, 


BY 

Mrs. D. M. Lowrey. 


12mo. 873 Pagres. Handsomely Bound in Cloth, Price, $1.00. 
Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 


Since the death of the author of Old Ma’mselle^s Secret,” 
Werner is the most popular of living German writers. Her 
novels are written with great literary ability, and possess the 
charm of varied character, incident and scenery. The Northern 
Light ” is one of her most characteristic stories. The heroine is 
a woman of great beauty and strength of individuality. No less 
interesting is the young poet who, from beginning to end, con- 
stantly piques the curiosity of the reader. 

F or sale by all booksellers, or sent, postpaid, on receipt of 
price, by 

ROBERT BONNER’S SONS, Publishers, 

Cor. William and Spruce Streets, New York. 


THE LEDGER LIBRM. “ 


1. -HER DOUBliE LIFE. By Mrs. Har- 

riet Lewis. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, 

2. — ITNKNOAVN. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. 

Bouthwortli. Paper Co\ er, 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, $1.00. 

3 — GUNMAKEU OF MOSCOW. By 
Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. Paper Cover, 25 
Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

4..— MAUD MORTON. By Major Alfred 
R. Calboun. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, $1.00. 

5 THE HIDDEN HAND. By Mrs. E. 

D. E. N. Soutkwortli. Paper Cover, 
50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

0 — SUNDERED HEARTS. By Mrs. Har- 
riet Lewis. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, $1.00. 

T . -THE STONE- C UT^PER OF LISBON. 
By \Vm. Henry Peck. Paper Cover, 
50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 
^.~I^DV KILDARE. By Mrs. Harriet 
I^ewis. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound 
Volume, $1.00, 

P.-CRIS ROCK. By Captain May no 
Reid. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound 
Volume, $1.00. 

HI. -NEAREST AND DEAREST. By Mrs. 

E, D. E. N. SoutU worth. Paper Cover. 
50 Cents. Bound Vo\ume, $1.(X). 

11. -THE BAILIFF’S SCHEME. By Mrs. 
Harriet Lewis. Paper Cover, 50 
Cents. Bound Volume, .$1.00. 

12 —A LKiP IN THE DARK. By Mrs. 
E. D. E. N. Sou fchworth. Paper Cover, 
50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

1.3.— HENRY M. STANLEY. By Henry 
Frederic Reddall. Paper CoVer, 50 
Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

11— THE OLD LIFE’S SHADOWS; By 
Mrs. Harriet I.^w is. Paper Cover, 50 
Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

1.' -A iMAD BETROTHAL. By Laura 
Jean Libbey. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, $1.00. 

Ui.-THE LOST LADY OF LONE. By 
Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth. Paper 
Cover, 50 Cts. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

1 7 . — lONE. By Laura J ean Libbey. Paper 
Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Volume, 
.$ 1 . 00 . 

1*^ -FOR WOMAN’S LOVE. By Mrs. E. 
D. E. N. Southworth, Paper Cover, 
50 Ceuts. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

10.— CESAR BIROTl’EAU. By Honors 
De Balzac. Pap.er Cover, 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, .$1.00; 

2U.—THE BARONESS BLANK. Bv 
August Niemann. Paper Cover, 50 
Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

^ .-PARTED BY FATE. By Laura Jean 
Libbey. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 

7 Bound Volume, $1.00. 
y22.-THE FORSAKEN INN. By Anna 
Katharine Green. Paper Cover, 50 
Ceuts. Bound Volume, $1.50. 
-M-OTTILIE ASTER’S SILENCE. 
Traiislatiid from the German, By Mrs. 
I). M. l>>wrey. Paper Cover, 50 
Cents. Bound Volume, $l.00» 


21.— EDDA’S BIRTHRIGHT. Jty Mrs. 
Harriet Lewis. Paper Cover, ou 
Cents, Bound Volume, $1.00. 

25. — THE ALCHEMIST. From the Freneli 
, of Honors De Balzac. Paper Cover, 

50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

26. — UNDER OATH. — An Aclirondack 

Story* By Jean Kate Ludlum, Paper 
Cover, 50 Cts. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

27. — COUSIN PONS. From the French of 

Honor6 De Balzac. Paper Cover, 50 
Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

28. — THE UNLOVED WIFE. By Mrs. E. 

D. E. N. Southworth. Paper Cover. 
50 Cents. Bound Volume, $1,00. 

29. — LILITH. By Mrs. E. D. E. N. South- 

worth. Paper Cover, 50 Ceuts. 

Bound Volume, $1.00. 

30. — REUNITED. By A Popular Southern 

Author. Paper Cover, 50 Cents, 
Bound Volume, $1.00. 

31. — MRS. HAROLD STAGG. By Robert 

Grant. Paper Cover, 50 Ceuts. Bound 
Volume, $1.00. 

32. — THE BREACH OF CUSTOM. Trans 

lated from the German by Mrs. D. M. 
Lowrey. Paper . Cover, . 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, $1.00. 

33. — THE NORTHERN LIGHT. Trans- 

lated from the German of E. IVeruej-. 
Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Vol- 
ume, $1.00. 

31.-BERYL’S HUSBAND. By Mrs. Har- 
riet Le^is. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, $1.00. ‘ 

35. — A LOVE MATCH. By Sylvanu^ 

Cobb, Jr. Paper Cover, 50 Cent^. 
Bound Volume, $1.00. 

36. — A , MATTER OF MILLIONS. By 

Anna Katharine Green. Paiier Cover. 
50 Cents,: V Bound Volume, $1.50. 
37i— EUGENIE GRANDET. By Honoie 
De Balzac. Paper Cover, 50 Cents. 
Bound Volume, $1.00. 

38. — THE IMPROVISATORE. Trans 

, lated from the Danish of Hans Cliris 
^ tian 'Andersen; Paper Cover, 5d 
Cents. Bound Volume, $1.00. 

39. — PAOLI, THE lYARRlOR BISHOP. 

or The Fall of the Christians. Bv 
IV. G. Kitchin. Paper Cover, 50 
Cents. Bound Volume. $1.00. 

40. — UNDER A CLOUD. By Jean Kate 

Ludlum. Paper Cover, 50 Cents 
Bound Volutne, $1.00. 

41. — WIFE AND WOMAN. ' Tran.siafed 

from the German by Mary J. Safi'ord. 
Paper Cover, 50 Cents. Bound \mi 
ume,$1.00. ^ 

42. — AN INSIGNIFICANT WOMAN*. 

Translated from the German of ^V. 
Heimburg by Mary Stuart Pinith. 
PaperT Cover, 50 Cents. Bound Vid 
ume, $1.00. 

43. — THE CARLETONS. Bv Buin rr 

Grant. Paper Cover. :> f t e.nts. 
Bound Volume, $1,00, 


U2^<. 

THE POPULAR SERlESl 

A New 25-Cent Library of Copyright 
Novels 

For Sale by all Booksellers and Newsdealers. 

Issued February 7lb, 

1. ’-THE OUTCAST OF MILANt A Companion story to “ The 

Gunmaker of Moscow.’’ By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. Paper 
Cover, Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued February 21 st. . 

2. -*R0LL0 OF NORMANDY. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. Paper 

Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued March 7th, 

3. -MART SATTERLEE AMONG THE INDIANS. By William 

O. Stoddard. Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued March 2l8t. 

4. **KIT CARSON’S LAST TRAIL. By Leon Lewis. Paper 

Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued April 7th. 

5. '^THE SCOURGE OF DAMASCUS. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 

Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued April 21st. 

6. **THE GREAT KENTON FEUD. By Capt. Frederick Whit- 

taker. Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued May 7th. 

7. -LUKE HAMMOND THE MISER. Bjr Wm. Henry Peck. 

Paper Cover. Price, 85 Cents. 

Issued May 2l8t. 

8. *"THE CONSPIRATOR OF CORDOVA. By Sylvanus Cobb, 

Jr. Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued June 7th. 

9. -THE FORTUNES OF CONRAD. By Sylvanus Cobb, Jr. 

Paper Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued June 21st. 

10. -THE DIAMOND SEEKER OF BRAZIL. By Leon Lewis. 

Paper Cover. Price, 26 Cents. 

Issued July 7th. 

11. --THE ROBBER COUNTESS. By S/lvanus Cobb, Jr. Paper 

Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 

Issued July 2l8t. 

12. "‘BEL RUBIO. By Capt. Frederick Whittaker. Paper 

Cover. Price, 25 Cents. 



r* • 





l*v ^ IVH 

• • I , • • * , • 

. • • V -• , * 




. N' 

*;r 


' X 


& •■ if fm- i-. iiMj - 

: . . ■ h*. ■ . 

. . - . » i ‘‘VC—^'V - 1 *. ^ •* • 

• . ' ». • , ... ^ *' ^J. p » ^ , 

. ' «i ‘ . • '• •♦. 

’ . ^ >*/?'*'■• \Si\* ' ‘ ' ■ • • •'••■ *» • 

' *• . ■» *u r 


■ • -v, >-■. / 's .V ■ . y;^ 

■f ' "'* llW .‘riVTvi/:- . ‘p^ ■ -' 

*• “• t- M| m|| 

.’ ^ aVr - <81 


! l 


•< 


- A 


Wv". 

^ • 




» k 


A- 

f 


■* A -■ 


.»• 


^ » 


/ ' ' •WISSKm * 

. * .'- • '■ 
vTA ^ “ ; 

\ • ^ ■ r * ' 


' ikibk^v ov ..i' '. "' -'• ■ ' *^r* '••'.• 

' .„,,.'U'.' ■■’.;■ •■•I- ';■■•'■ '• 

' ^ : limy ' ^mm 

• ■'* V-V’ 

-;.-w . V .‘■i v ■'V ^--.1. 

1 ^ ■ '><«■ • ■> - • ' '. 'tV.; ■ '.• 

tH . ' »T- >ir:v'-- ’ 




' rr ' • • 

. *4 . ' ^ 

' 






* « 


* . 




» I 

\.V-^ 

a- 4 ' 


?r m 

^ ■*♦ '*-,** ' ■ ' Kmml' ~id&8WW 

V- * i,-* *• aVttis^ 

.. ' 'k: '. '■ ' 

,,.V' V. y:,.-p ., -, , V'-'l' 

. isi*® ’^aKEw ■;'. v^„ ;, 


• -Vi , 

’“'v't. .• • 

• . » *^i 


a 


^‘v» 


‘\-y, • '• 4 * 


'A?- 


















- /^' ^ . 'X 


Af^A- *^A^'aA 


iKvi«^. 

nR^ 

ii^sA 





iL« 

i- 1 

M 

^renii 


ma^ 

VjH 

Bp|y[^^\i^ 




U^^olAiol 

m A 



IPKgfj^W^pi^MWp^ 



3w^M{ffi|piEli^v 

rn^^miSSLwBtmilBSsBf ytri 







iB^nwAW/AW/M^ 








T T - j 


i ‘ ^‘.W’^^F •W'’‘'‘T* 

y AlABBK^BjA^B^AiflHKA9l|^|MpUi^^HAUBH 


1 " r^lB£ji&f y^TM^kl 










IgEy p^ p^ 











